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THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2007  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/callateveningOOwardrich 


The 

Call  at  Evening 


By  Jessie  Ward 


HERALD  PUBLISHING  HOUSE 
LAMONI  IOWA 


Copyright,  1920,  by  Herald  Publishing  House 

Reorganized  Church  of  Jesus  Christ 

of  Latter  Day  Saints 


DEDICATED 

TO  THE  MEMORY  OF  ONE  WHOSE 

EARNEST  CRY:  "IF  I  COULD 

ONLY  BELIEVE," 

PROMPTED  THE  WRITING  OF  THIS 

BOOK 


YJWOUMJ 


Foreword 

More  earnest  than  the  quest  for  happiness,  more  intent 
than  the  search  for  knowledge,  and  more  far-reaching  than 
delving  for  gold,  is  man's  eternal  stretching  forth  toward 
the  goal  of  Eternal  Truth.  Bits  of  that-  Truth  drifting  down- 
ward in  particles  of  flame  have  been  grasped  by  man  and 
have  become  the  golden  ladder  by  which  he  climbed  to  its 
radiant  fullness.  Yet  it  has  always  been  that  Seeming  Truth 
has  drifted  by  its  side,  and  the  masses  grasping  it  have  rested 
content  until  the  thing  has  tarnished  in  their  hands  or  crum- 
bled with  their  weight,  when  they  would  use  it,  upward  bound. 

Yet,  there  are  some  who  with  keener  vision  have  sensed 
the  difference  they  could  not  see  and  have  refused  to  grasp 
the  Truth  that  Seemed,  but  waited,  watching  for  the  unfolding 
of  the  Real.  Some  there  are  in  whose  breasts  this  hope  has 
died,  and  in  despair  they  have  lifted  their  faces  and  said, 
"There  is  no  Truth."  Yet  as  they  spoke  the  clouds  of  doubt 
have  scattered  and  the  long-hoped-for  has  burst  upon  their 
view,  and  the  Sun  of  Eternal  Knowledge  of  the  Here  and 
Now  and  Yet  to  Come  has  burst  upon  them.  Of  such  were 
Bill  Lakeman  and  Stanley  and  many  others  of  whom  they  are 
but  a  type. 

There  are  others  yet,  whose  lives  are  enshrouded  with  great, 
black  clouds  of  care,  and  who  must  of  necessity  forego  the 
search,  but  in  whose  hearts  bums  the  unquestioning  assurance 
that  just  beyond  their  reach  and  beyond  the  clouds  of  despair 
which  envelop  them,  truth  reigns  supreme,  could  they  but 
drop  their  work  to  search.  Yet  Duty  holds  them,  and  at  the 
moment  when  they  least  think,  like  a  shaft  of  flame  dancing 
across  the  blackness  of  their  sky  thp  Fires  of  the  Real  and 
Always  burn,  and  as  they  grasp  it,  remain  and  gleam  to  light 
their  sphere  of  action, , until  the  clouds  in  shame  retreat  into 
the  false  from  whence  they  came.  Of  such  are  Mary  Ben- 
nett and  the  widowed  mother  of  Cynthia  Brown  and  many 
others  of  whom  they  also  are  but  a  type. 

Others  yet  remain,  who,  with  eyes   cast  down  upon  the 


pleasures  of  the  world  around  them,  chased  a  phanthom  until 
it  faded  from  their  view  and  they  found  themselves  dragging 
weary  feet  across  the  Desert  of  Despair,  when  in  their  path 
a  gleam  of  Firelight  fell  and  stooping  idly  down  to  lift  it, 
found  themselves  in  possession  of  the  All.  To  this  last  type 
do  John  Bennett  and  Henry  Parsons  belong,  with  many  others 
like  them  drifting  idly,  idly  on. 


Contents 

Chapter  Page 

1.  Leesburg 13 

2.  A  Stranger  in  the  Night 15 

3.  ''I  Will  Do  Something" 19 

4.  A  Preacher  in  the  Hands  of  Infidels 27 

5.  ''My  Mother  Among  the  Damned?" 41 

6.  To  Those  Who  "Sit  in  Darkness" 46 

7.  An  Appeal  for  Help 58 

8.  A  Battle  With  Death 62 

9.  A  Double  Burden  Borne  Alone  72 

10.  Stanley  Sends  in  a  Breakfast 79 

11.  ''Then  Opened  He  the  Scriptures"  89 

12.  The  Old  Tree  Hears  Strange  Things Ill 

13.  An  Awakening  120 

14.  A  Sudden  Change  of  Plan 126 

15.  The  Evening  Attendance  Grows   131 

16.  Putting  the  Map  Together 138 

17.  Aunt  Maria's  Faith   164 

18.  A  Father's  Advice 175 

19.  Jennie  Learns  of  a  Scheme 181 

20.  A  Discussion  on  the  Resurrection 188 

21.  The  Selection  of  Two  Dresses 207 

22.  The  Earth's  Great  Day  212 

23.  Henry  Parsons  Returns   230 

24.  The  Building  of  the  Church  238 

25.  John  Bennett's  Big  Fight 255 

26.  What  Became  of  the  Church 271 

27.  Henry  Parsons  Set  Adrift — and  Caught  Again.  .285 

28.  "The  Land  Shadowing  With  Wings" 305 

29.  When  Conditions  Change 333 


30.  A  Marvelous  Work  and  a  Wonder 344 

31.  The  Factory  Burns — Jennie  and  Cynthia  Inside  365 

32.  The  Circle  Widens   375 

33.  Jennie  Hesitates 388 

34.  All  Lost  but  Jennie 's  Savings 396 

35.  The  Ways  of  Man 406 

36.  The  Way  of  God  412 

37.  The  Gospel  Influence  at  Work 428 


Illustrations 

*'I  know  he  h'ars  my  pra'rs.     Dat's  enough  for 

me." 166 

The  tones  filled  the  whole  house  with  harmony.  . . .   235 

Like  the  shadows  cast  by  two  great  wings 316 

' '  Will  you  marry  me,  Cynthia  ?  " 341 

''Cynthia  and  I  have  decided  to  be  equally  grate- 
ful to  you  both. "   377 


CHAPTER  1 

LEESBURG 

THE  DAY  was  dying.  Over  everything  had  settled 
that  strange  quiet  w^hich  Bill  Lakeman  said  was 
Nature  relaxing  before  she  went  to  sleep.  In  the 
little  town  of  Leesburg  there  was  an  unusual  stir.  The 
heat  of  the  day  had  kept  under  the  shade  and  pro- 
tection of  their  own  homes  all  who  were  not  com- 
pelled to  furnish  the  necessities  of  life.  The  few  people 
who  found  it  necessary  to  be  about  moved  languidly  and 
paused  often  under  the  shade  of  the  friendly  maple 
trees  which  adorned  the  streets  of  the  town.  Now,  as 
evening  brought  the  first  sign  of  relief,  they  sought 
recompense  by  strolling  on  the  town  promenade,  seek- 
ing cool  retreats  in  the  city  parks,  or,  if  one  were  for- 
tunate enough  to  be  of  that  happy  age  when  such  a 
thing  were  permissible,  taking  a  cool  dip  in  Strong 
Lake,  public  bathing  being  held  by  the  good  people  of 
Leesburg  to  be  quite  out  of  the  question. 

As  the  night  deepened  there  was  a  noticeable  de- 
crease of  those  on  the  promenade.  Next,  the  close 
observer  would  see  that  for  some  the  city  park  had 
lost  its  charm ;  and  finally,  but  reluctantly,  the  bathers, 
striving  to  eradicate  from  their  persons  too  strong 
evidence  of  the  manner  in  which  they  had  spent  the 
evening,  turned  their  steps  homeward. 

By  ten  o'clock  the  village  was  quiet,  having  seem- 


14  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

ingly  settled  itself  for  the  night,  except  here  and  there 
a  dwelling  with  rays  of  light  stealing  cautiously  from 
beneath  drawn  curtains,  as  if  reluctant  to  give  to  the 
world  the  revelation  that  those  within  had  disregarded 
the  unwritten  law  of  Leesburg,  that  all  good  people 
should  retire  early,  and  were  following  their  own  in- 
clinations and  amusing  themselves  in  whatever  manner 
suited  them  best. 

Along  the  highway  that  led  past  the  Silas  Perkins 
farm  there  walked  one  who  had  no  such  object  in  view. 
Indeed,  had  one  suggested  at  that  moment  that  such  a 
thing  as  amusement  or  enjoyment  existed,  he  probably 
would  have  met  with  an  emphatic  denial.  Not  that 
the  wanderer  was  a  cynic;  nor  that  many  years  of 
varied  experiences  had  passed  over  his  head,  bringing 
to  him  the  soured  disposition  of  the  pessimist.  On  the 
contrary,  had  the  darkness  permitted  us  to  see  his  face, 
we  would  have  thought  for  a  moment  that  he  was 
only  a  boy.  A  closer  look  would  have  told  us  we  were 
wrong — ^that  the  stranger  was  somewhere  near  the 
age  of  thirty.  In  this  case,  however,  the  darkness  was 
kindly,  for  it  hid  a  face  very  white  and  worn.  The 
step  so  closely  resembling  the  shambling  gait  of  the 
very  aged,  was  only  the  result  of  extreme  exhaustion. 
Whenever  a  friendly  object  offered,  he  seated  himself 
for  a  few  moments  of  rest,  and  then,  resolutely  set- 
ting his  face  toward  Leesburg,  plodded  on. 


CHAPTER  2 

A  STRANGER  IN   THE  NIGHT 

LEESBURG  does  not  boast  of  many  palatial  homes. 
Its  inhabitants  were  strictly  cosmopolitan  until 
Squire  Parsons  built  his  residence  on  State  Street 
(whereupon  the  name  of  the  street  was  changed  to 
Wolgast  Avenue),  hired  a  retinue  of  servants,  had 
himself  elected  to  the  state  legislature,  and  promptly 
became  the  Honorable  J.  A.  Parsons,  Esquire.  After 
which  a  few  of  the  most  daring  changed  their  abode  of 
fifty  years  for  a  more  modern  but  infinitely  less  com- 
fortable dwelling;  but  none  dared  surpass  the  Honor- 
able Gentleman,  or  even  copy  the  architecture  of  the 
Parsons  Mansion.  'Twas  enough  to  be  able  to  point  to 
it  with  pride  and  say,  ^'Here  lives  our  most  important 
citizen. ' '  Indeed  most  of  the  good  townsfolk  had  come 
to  feel  that  they  were  part  owners  of  the  Parsons  resi- 
dence, with  the  Honorable  J.  A.  thrown  in.  This  sense 
of  ownership  could  be  easily  discerned  at  each  publi- 
cation of  the  Leesburg  weekly  paper,  ''Our  respected 
citizen,  the  Honorable  J.  A.  Parsons, '^  or,  ''Our  es- 
teemed patron,"  (in  just  what  manner  he  had  been  the 
town's  patron  being  quite  indefinite)  and  ''Our  much 
beloved  citizen,"  being  pressed  into  service  for  the 
Honorable  and  him  alone.  These  had  become  quite 
sacred'  to  him.  As  yet  no  Lucifer  had  appeared  on  the 
scene  to  question  or  aspire  to  his  glory. 


16  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING  ; 

Among  those  who  ventured  to  follow  at  a  respectful 
distance  was  Marion  Burnside,  who,  having  no  thought 
of  ever  equaling,  was  quite  content  with  holding  sec- 
ond place.  The  fact  that  Marion  Burnside  was  also  a 
deacon  in  the  church  which  the  Honorable  one  favored 
with  his  presence  at  each  Sunday  service,  was  enough 
in  itself  to  entitle  him  to  that  place.  Who  else  oould 
think  of  occupying  there?  Others  must  be  content  to 
allow  their  individuality  to  be  swallowed  up  in  the 
mass  of  Leesburg  citizens. 

On  the  night  of  which  we  write,  Marion  Burnside 
sat  in  his  very  uncomfortable  but  very  modern  dwelling 
long  after  the  hour  when  the  houses  of  the  good  were 
closed  and  quiet.  Not  that  Marion/Burnside  did  not 
consider  himself  among  the  good;  but  having  the  dis- 
tinction, as  we  have  already  mentioned,  of  being  the 
second  citizen,  he  did  not  feel  that  it  was  absolutely 
necessary  for  him  to  adhere  to  the  tried  and  invincible 
rules  which  governed  the  good  of  Leesburg. 

So  it  happened  that  from  beneath  the  drawn  cur- 
tains of  this  somewhat  magnificent  residence  streamed 
the  telltale  rays  of  light  which  guided  the  steps  of  the 
wanderer  slowly  and  painfully  to  the  door,  in  the  hope 
that  there  he  might  find  some  of  that  mercy  and  love 
for  humanity  which  at  that  time  he  felt  to  be  such  a 
dire  necessity. 

He  leaned  weakly  against  a  friendly  pillar  which  was 
one  of  the  many  supports  of  the  massive  porch  which 
protected  the  front  entrance,  while  he  waited  for  an  an- 
swer to  his  timid  ring.  Perhaps  it  was  the  very  ti- 
midity of  the  ring  that  was  his  undoing,  or  perhaps  it 


A  STRANGER  IN  THE   NIGHT  17 

was  the  lateness  of  the  hour,  for  late  evening  visitors 
were  unusual  in  Leesburg,  and  none  but  the  first  and 
second  citizens  of  Leesburg  could,  with  immunity,  par- 
take of  the  unusual.  Be  that  as  it  may,  Marion  Bum- 
side  was  in  no  pleasant  mood  when  he  slowly  and  de- 
liberately opened  the  door  upon  his  belated  visitor. 
The  only  thing  at  that  moment  which  lightened  the  op- 
pressiveness of  the  atmosphere,  was  the  kindly,  delicate 
face  of  a  young  girl  who  had  just  entered  the  room  and 
stood  expectantly  beside  Marion  Burnside.  Looking  at 
the  two  as  they  stood  there,  one  could  hardly  credit 
the  statement  that  here  were  father  and  daughter. 

The  stranger  entered,  if  half  falling,  half  walking 
could  be  called  an  entrance.  For  a  moment  the  two 
watched  him  in  silence. 

'  *  Well,  sir ! "  The  tone  was  not  kindly.  It  was  Mar- 
ion Burnside  speaking.     "What  can  I  do  for  you?'' 

The  young  man  met  his  gaze  frankly.  It  cost  him  an 
effort  to  keep  the  pain  he  was  enduring  from  showing 
in  his  face. 

"I  am  a  wanderer  at  present,"  he  said.  ''I  have  been 
so  unfortunate  as  to  sustain  an  injury  of  my  foot.  I 
do  not  think  it  serious,  however,  but  am  afraid  I  will  be 
unable  to  walk  the  remaining  distance  into  towgi^^  I 
camie  to  ask  if  you  would  allow  me  to  remain  here  dur- 
ing the  night.  I  feel  quite  sure  I  will  be  able  to  resume 
my  journey  to-morrow.'* 

The  request  came  falteringly;  evidently  he  was  not 
accustomed  to  begging.  The  heart  of  Marion  Burnside 
had  not  been  softened. 

''Young  man,"  he  said,  ''we  are  not  in  the  habit  of 


I 


18  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 


taking  strangers  into  our  home.  We  would  not  con- 
sider  such  a  proceeding  advisable.  A  man  of  your 
age  who  finds  it  necessary  to  walk  the  road  has  little 
to  recommend  him." 

''I  can  give  you  very  good  references,  sir.  I  am  a 
minister  of  the  gospel,  and  if  you  would  like,  can  show 
you  my  ordination  certificate  and  my  credentials." 

Had  he  known  it,  this  was  a  very  poorly  chosen  re- 
mark. 

Marion  Burnside  had  no  patience  with  ministers  who 
could  not  command  a  salary  large  enough  to  make  it 
unnecessary  for  them  to  ever  ''walk  the  road." 

''What  church  do  you  represent,  may  I  ask?"  The 
tone  was  quiet  but  threatening. 

"Certainly,  sir,"  the  stranger  answered;  "I  repre- 
sent the  Reorganized  Church  of  Jesus  Christ  of  Latter 
Day  Saints." 

The  effect  of  the  words  was  instantaneous.  The  face 
of  Marion  Burnside  became  livid ;  he  executed  one  mag- 
nificent, imperious  gesture,  which  showed  the  stranger 
the  door  and  at  the  same  time  banished  him  from  the 
universe.  There  was  only  one  thing  to  do.  The  face 
of  the  young  man  became  one  shade  whiter  than  it  had 
been  before.  With  what  grace  he  could  with  one  dis- 
abled foot,  he  managed  to  reach  the  door  and  found 
himself  once  more  a  part  of  the  night.  It  is  strange  at 
times  what  little  things  can  lighten  our  burdens.  Be- 
fore the  door  was  slammed  behind  him,  he  caught  the 
words  of  the  thoroughly  aroused  girl,  and  the  very  re- 
proach in  her  tone  was  in  some  manner  a  balm  to  the 
wounds  he  had  received. 

' ' Father, ' '  she  cried,  "that  man  was  crippled. ' ' 


CHAPTER   3 


THE  rebuke  was  lost  on  Marion  Burnside.  He 
calmly  went  about  the  closing  of  the  house  as 
though  nothing  unusual  had  happened.  Jenny 
watched  him  with  flashing  eyes,  and  finally,  as  it 
seemed  there  was  nothing  she  could  do,  went  quietly 
to  her  own  room.  For  this  night,  however,  Marion 
Burnside  had  omitted  the  family  prayer.  It  was  the 
only  evidence  that  he  was  inwardly  disturbed.  Jennie 
was  very  glad  that  he  had  done  so.  She  felt  that  she 
could  not  have  listened  to  one  of  her  father's  ponder- 
ous prayers  very  worshipfully  after  what  she  had  just 
witnessed.  Once  in  the  security  of  her  own  room,  she 
knelt  beside  her  bed  and  simply  asked  God  to  take  care 
of  the  stranger  and  forgive  her  father.  Ordinarily 
quiet  and  submissive,  there  still  flowed  in  her  veins  the 
blood  of  the  Burnsides,  and  to-night  she  found  it  im- 
possible to  banish  from  her  mind  the  white,  drawn 
face  of  the  stranger,  or  suppress  the  growing  indigna- 
tion at  the  attitude  of  her  father.  What  if  he  were 
not  of  their  particular  faith?  Did  that  make  him  less 
one  of  God's  creatures?  She  could  not  have  treated  a 
dog  SO;  and  he  with  an  injured  foot,  unable  to  go 
further.  Why,  the  next  house  was  beyond  the  park; 
he  would  never  be  able  to  make  it.  If  she  were  only  a 
man  now  she  might —    The  thought  was  never  finished. 


20  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 


Determination  flashed  in  her  eyes.  For  once  she  was  a 
Burnside.  The  gentler  disposition  which  had  been  a 
gift  from  her  mother,  slipped  from  her  as  a  mask. 

''I  will  do  something,"  she  said;  *'I  will/'  The 
thought  was  no  sooner  bom  than  it  in  turn  brought 
forth  action.  She  turned  the  latch  on  the  low  window 
of  her  room  and  stepped  out  on  the  wide  veranda  and 
ran  lightly  down  the  steps  to  the  barn.  A  low  neigh 
from  within  showed  that  her  footsteps,  light  as  they 
had  been,  were  heard  and  recognized. 

''You've  got  to  help,  Daisy,"  she  said  as  she  threw 
the  saddle  lightly  on  the  pony's  back.  The  little  animal 
rubbed  her  nose  against  the  soft  cheek  of  her  mistress 
in  answer.  In  another  moment  they  were  picking  their 
way  quietly  along  the  driveway  which  connected  with 
the  highway.  Fortunately  the  moon  had  just  emerged 
from  a  light  cloud,  giving  to  the  night  a  soothing,  gen- 
tle quiet.  For  the  first  time  in  her  life  the  beauties  of 
a  moonlight  night  were  lost  to  Jennie  Burnside,  sub- 
merged in  the  tempestuous  thoughts  of  her  own  mind. 
She  scanned  the  highway  closely,  and  not  in  vain.  She 
found  the  stranger  sitting  in  a  huddled  heap  by  the 
roadside,  staring  with  unseeing  eyes  at  the  unoffending 
moon,  as  though  it  were  in  some  manner  responsible  for 
his  troubles.  He  was  unconscious  of  help  so  near  at 
hand.  He  was  also  unmindful  that  after  all  he  had 
found  in  the  home  of  Marion  Burnside  that  love  for 
humanity  for  which  he  had  prayed,  and  that  in  his  own 
time  and  way  the  God  whom  he  served  was  looking 
after  him  and  he  had  not,  as  he  thought,  forsaken  him 
or  left  him  alone. 


"I  WILL  DO  SOMETHING"  21 

As  Jennie  Burnside  paused  a  moment,  looking  at  the 
white  face  raised  to  heaven,  she  was  conscious  only  of 
an  overwhelming  pity.  She  dismounted  and  came  qui- 
etly to  his  side.  It  was  not  until  she  had  touched  him 
lightly  on  the  arm  that  he  knew  of  her  presence.  He 
started  painfully  to  his  feet,  with  a  little  startled  excla- 
mation. Then,  seeing  his  companion  was  a  woman, 
stood  hat  in  hand,  stammering  with  embarrassment. 

"I  hardly  know  what  to  say  to  you,"  she  said.  *'I 
did  not  think  it  right  that  you  were  not  allowed  to 
stay  with  us  to-night.  I  have  come  to  give  what  help 
I  can.  I  know  you  are  not  able  to  walk.  Can  you 
get  on  the  horse  there?" 

The  young  man  hesitated. 

''What  are  you  going  to  do?"  he  asked. 

She  understood  his  question ;  an  amused  smile  lighted 
her  face.  "Shall  I  help  you  mount?"  was  all  she  said. 
He  knew  it  to  be  a  command,  and  for  the  second  time 
that  night  he  ol3eyed  a  Burnside  because  there  seemed 
to  be  nothing  else  to  do. 

He  never  knew  how  long  he  rode  thus.  He  was  only 
vaguely  conscious  that  she  led  the  way,  walking  her- 
self. When  he  afterward  realized  this,  his  face  flushed 
with  shame,  and  he  emphatically  condemned  his  own 
weakness.  He  was  brought  to  a  realization  of  the  pres- 
ent when  she  turned  suddenly  from  the  highway  and 
entered  a  quiet,  almost  unused  lane  and,  passing 
through  a  small  grove  of  trees,  came  unexpectedly  upon 
an  old-fashioned,  unpretentious  cottage,  half -hidden  be- 
neath an  abundant  growth  of  clinging  ivy.    His  guide 


22  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

stopped  and,  when  he  had  safely  dismounted,  pointed 
to  the  house  and  said  simply,  ^'Go  there." 

Before  he  could  thank  her  she  had  jumped  lightly 
into  the  saddle  and  was  gone.  He  watched  her  until 
she  was  swallowed  up  in  the  shadows  of  the  trees,  and 
still  stood  listening  to  the  clatter  of  the  horse's  hoofs 
until  the  sound  was  lost  in  the  distance  or  had  melted 
into  the  melody  of  the  night.  Then  he  turned  wearily 
to  the  house.  He  could  never  have  told  how  he 
reached  the  door.  He  only  saw  for  a  moment  the 
kindly  face  of  Bill  Lakeman  as  he  opened  the  door 
in  answer  to  the  very  feeble  knock,  as  in  a  haze.  The 
face,  losing  none  of  its  kindness,  seemed  suddenly  sur- 
rounded by  deeper  shadows  and  was  then,  loist  in 
blackness. 

''Stanley!"  the  old  man  called.  "I  think  we  have 
work  here." 

Together  they  lifted  the  unconscious  man  and  car- 
ried him  into  the  old  back  parlor,  where  he  was  laid 
gently  on  a  sofa. 

"Looks  just  like  a  boy,"  he  continued.  "How  do 
you  suppose  he  ever  got  up  here?" 

"It  does  seem  strange,"  his  son  answered;  "so  far 
from  the  highway.  I  think  I  had  better  look  into 
this."  With  a  steady  hand  and  unconscious  manner, 
which  betoken  medical  enlightenment,  he  examined  the 
young  man  before  him. 

"Exhaustion,  I  think,"  was  all  he  said. 

The  quick  eye  of  Bill  Lakeman  had  discovered  some- 
thing else  wrong.  He  touched  Stanley  on  the  shoulder 
and  said:    "Look,  boy;  I'm  not  a  medical  man,  but  I 


"I  WILL  DO  SOMETHING"  23 

don't  like  the  way  that  foot  is  swollen  above  the 
shoe  there." 

''By  Jove!"  Stanley  exclaimed,  ''a  dislocation,  and 
he  has  been  walking  on  it.  I  hope  he  doesn't  regain 
consciousness  until  I  have  finished  dressing  it.  The 
pain  in  that  foot  .must  have  been  dreadful.  Here, 
father;  just  hold  that  leg  steady  a  moment;  that's  it. 
Now  can  you  get  me  some  hot  water?" 

The  shoe  was  removed.  Deftly  the  adjustment  was 
made.  Stanley  watched  his  patient  closely  for  signs 
of  returning  consciousness,  but  as  yet  he  remained 
blissfully  ignorant  of  what  was  passing. 

''What  do  you  think?"  Bill  Lakeman  asked  as  he 
returned. 

"It's  a  bad  foot,"  his  son  answered.  "He'll  not 
walk  on  it  again  soon." 

"He's  probably  a  stranger  and  out  of  money,"  the 
father  said.  He  watched  his  son  curiously  to  see  what 
would  be  the  effect  of  these  words. 

Stanley  raised  his  head.  "Well,  father,  we  are  not 
quite  destitute,  are  we?"  he  asked.  Whatever  his 
father  had  hoped  to  hear,  he  was  evidently  not  disap- 
pointed. 

"Stanley,  my  boy,"  he  said;  "I  knew  the  colleges 
would  never  spoil  you.  I  knew  you  would  always  be 
the  same  warm-hearted  boy." 

Stanley  Lakeman  was  very  much  embarrassed  by  his 
father's  praise.  He  only  dropped  his  head  and  re- 
sumed the  dressing  of  the  injured  foot.  His  father, 
seeing  his  embarrassment,  shrewdly  left  the  room. 

Thoughts  of  himself  were  fleeting,  for  the  stranger 


24  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING' 

was  showing  signs  of  returning  consciousness.  Stan- 
ley  worked  rapidly.  He  had  just  finished  the  securing 
of  the  last  of  the  bandages  when  the  young  man 
opened  his  eyes  and  looked  into  the  face  of  the  man 
bending  over  him. 

''Feeling  better  now?"  Stanley  asked  kindly. 

The  other  looked  as  though  he  did  not  understand. 
Seeing  the  bewilderment  in  his  eyes,  Stanley  smiled 
the  more  reassuringly  as  he  held  a  glass  of  water  to 
the  stranger's  lips. 

''You'll  be  all  right  as  soon  as  you  have  rested 
awhile,"  he  said.  A  sudden  twinge  of  pain  from  the 
injured  foot  seemed  to  bring  to  the  stranger  a  recol- 
lection of  the  thing  that  had  brought  about  his  pres- 
ent predicament. 

"Oh,  I  remember!"  he  said.  "I  could  not  see  where 
I  was  going  and  hurt  my  foot."  He  raised  himself 
slightly  and  looked  at  the  offending  member  and  then 
raised  his  eyes  in  astonishment  to  the  face  of  the 
young  man  beside  him. 

"Why,  who — are  you  a  physician?" 

Stanley  could  not  keep  the  twinkle  out  of  his  eyes. 
"No,"  he  said,  "I'm  just  an  excuse  for  one." 

"I  don't  know  how  to  thank  you,"  the  other  con- 
tinued. "I  remember  knocking  at  a  door — ^was  it  this 
house?  A  kind-looking  old  gentleman  came  to  the 
door  and  then  I  think  I  must  have  fainted." 

This  time  Stanley  turned  his  face  away  that  his  com- 
panion might  not  see  his  smile. 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "I  think  you  must  have."  A  mo- 
ment later  he  was  again  a  physician.    "Now  we  will 


"I  WILL  DO  SOMETHING"  25 

not  talk  any  more  to-night.  You  may  tell  me  all  you 
care  to  to-morrow.  But  you  see  it  is  now  past  mid- 
night.    I  think  we  need  the  rest,  don't  you?" 

It  was  impossible  not  to  catch  some  of  the  young 
physician's  cheerfulness.  The  trying,  depressing  ex- 
periences of  the  day  were  already  slipping  from  him. 
He  had  a  feeling  that  they  must  have  happened  to 
some  one  else  or  have  been  a  part  of  a  bad  dream.  But 
for  an  occasional  sharp  pain  from  the  injured  foot, 
which  savored  all  too  plainly  of  reality,  he  could  have 
persuaded  himself  that  it  was  indeed  only  a  dream 
from  which  he  had  not  yet  awakened. 

Stanley  helped  him  into  an  adjoining  room,  to  which 
there  seemed  to  cling  such  an  atmosphere  of  home 
that  the  young  man  would  have  found  it  restful  in  it- 
self, even  had  it  not  had  the  additional  advantage  of 
an  old-fashioned,  high-topped  bedstead,  with  the  gen- 
erous, indispensable  feather  bed  and  the  coolest  of 
linen  sheets.  There  had  been  a  time  in  his  life  when 
such  things  had  been  quite  commonplace ;  but,  to-night, 
if  there  existed  on  earth  a  greater  luxury,  he  was  un- 
able to  comprehend  it. 

Stanley  saw  with  what  evident  satisfaction  the  young 
man  sank  among  the  feathers,  and  still  stood  beside 
him  as  he  drifted  with  the  simplicity  of  a  child  into 
helpful,  restful  slumber.  When  a  few  minutes  later 
Stanley  sought  his  own  room,  there  was  in  his  heart 
that  peculiar  joy  in  living  which  comes  only  to  those 
who  are  always  ready  to  extend  a  helping  hand  to 
those  in  life  less  fortunate  than  themselves,  and  who 
are  ever  ready  to  reach  out  and  help  those  in  need. 


26  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

To  such  alone  are  given  to  comprehend  and  appreciate 
the  great  common  brotherhood  of  mankind. 

Bill  Lakeman  coming  in  a  moment  later,  saw  at  a 
glance  that  the  work  of  the  evening  was  finished,  and 
without  the  preliminary  of  locking  the  house  against 
an  expected  burglar,  sought  his  own  room,  and  with 
the  ease  and  grace  of  the  clean-minded,  was  quickly 
swallowed  up  in  the  great  common  oblivion,  and  the 
old  house  was  once  more  in  the  grasp  of  the  mystery 
of  night 


CHAPTER  4 
A  PREACHER  IN  THE   HANDS  OF  INFIDELS 

BILL  LAKEMAN  was  one  of  those  sturdy  charac- 
ters who  map  out  a  certain  routine  of  life;  to 
whom  life  is  one  round  of  duty  well  performed, 
and  with  whose  system  of  life  nothing  is  permitted  to 
interfere.  The  morning  following  the  arrival  of  the 
unexpected  guest,  he  was  up  at  precisely  the  same 
hour  that  governed  his  rising  every  other  day  in  the 
year.  He  made  no  eifort  to  ''make  up"  for  the  sleep 
lost  in  the  earlier  part  of  the  night.  Moreover,  he 
was  a  lover  of  nature.  The  fact  that  he  had  watched 
the  sun  rise  from  behind  the  same  hill  every  clear 
morning  for  fifty  years,  seemed  to  take  nothing  from 
the  pleasure  with  which  he  watched  it  on  that  par- 
ticular morning,  and  would  continue  to  watch  it  so 
long  as  strength  should  be  given  him  to  stand  in  the 
door  of  his  cottage. 

Stanley  Lakeman  was  in  many  ways  much  like  his 
father.  He  had  his  father's  ardent  love  for  the  beau- 
tiful in  nature,  and  it  was  never  to  him  an  ' '  old  story. ' ' 
However,  he  did  not  watch  the  rising  of  the  sun  from 
the  rear  entrance  of  the  Lakeman  cottage.  His  favorite 
indulgence  was  an  early  morning  gallop,  usually  ex- 
tending to  the  top  of  a  hill  two  miles  distant,  which 
commanded  even  a  better  view  of  the  rising  sun  than 
the  back  door  regularly  occupied  by  his  father.     This 


28  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

morning  he  sat  on  his  horse,  hat  in  hand,  head  thrown 
back,  while  the  early  morning  breezes  playfully  tossed 
the  wavy  locks  of  his  brown  hair,  his  eyes  (the  eyes  of 
an  enthusiast)  fixed  on  the  tiny  line  of  a  crimson  disk, 
as  the  sun  took  its  first  cautious  peep  above  the  hori- 
zon. He  did  not  move,  but  the  enthusiasm  in  his  eyes 
deepened  as  the  tiny  line  gradually  transformed  itself 
into  a  great  crimson  ball. 

''Jove!"  he  exclaimed,  ''she's  a  beauty!  I  can't 
wonder  sometimes  that  the  old  pagans  couldn't  keep 
from  worshiping  her.  She's  about  the  most  worship- 
ful thing  I've  seen.  What  do  you  think  about  it, 
Spider  ? ' '  addressing  his  horse.  ' '  Don 't  you  think  life 
is  worth  living  on  a  morning  like  this?  Suppose  you 
and  I  take  a  run  for  the  hill  yonder?  What  do  you 
say?" 

The  little  animal  seemed  to  understand  perfectly  the 
words  of  her  master.  There  was  one  brief  moment 
when  she  seemed  to  gather  all  the  strength  of  her  lithe 
body,  and  the  next  moment  she  was  off.  It  was  not 
the  half-hearted  gallop  of  the  ordinary  ride  which  is 
made  for  the  pleasure  of  the  rider  alone.  Oh,  no! 
Spider  ran  for  the  pure  pleasure  of  running.  And  she 
ran!  She  well  knew  that  this  one  gallop  was  given 
over  to  her  to  do  with  as  she  pleased,  and,  like  the 
master  she  loved,  when  she  pleased  to  do  a  thing  it 
was  done  with  all  the  ardor  of  her  nature. 

Stanley  made  no  move  to  interfere.  Leaning  over, 
he  gave  her  free  rein.  He  felt  her  bend  to  the  ground 
as  the  trees  and  the  fence  posts  flew  past.  The  warm 
wind  blew  his  hair  wildly  about  his  face  as  he  gave 


IN  THE  HANDS  OF  INFIDELS  29 

himself  up  to  the  pony^s  moment  of  play.  When  the 
crest  of  the  next  hill  was  won  she  stopped  as  a  matter 
of  course,  and  seemed  to  say:  "You,  now,  are  master 
again.*' 

''Good  girl,"  commended  Stanley,  as  soon  as  he 
could  regain  his  breath.  "Wouldn't  you  make  the 
racer,  now?  But  you'll  never  have  to  do  it,  little 
horse.  Why,  I'd  pound  the  first  man  who  tried  to 
make  you  a  part  of  his  gambling  scheme.  Do  you 
think  we  could  eat  breakfast  now?  Suppose  we  go 
home." 

A  few  minutes  later  he  jumped  from  his  horse  in  the 
barnyard,   just   as  his   father  turned   to   go   indoors. 

"It's  hard  to  tell,  Stanley,"  he  said,  "which  enjoyed 
that  ride  most ;  you,  or  the  horse. ' ' 

"I  wish  you  could  have  seen  her  run,  father,"  his 
son  answered.  "Just  like  the  wind.  She  enjoyed  it 
like  a  schoolboy." 

'  "She's  not  the  only  one  who  enjoyed  it  like  a  school- 
boy," returned  Bill  Lakeman,  laughing. 

"Well,  how's  our  stranger?"  Stanley  asked,  with 
his  face  half  buried  in  a  tin  washbasin. 

"Asleep  yet,  I  think,"  his  father  answered.  "And, 
unless  I  am  mistaken,  he  needs  all  of  it  he  can  get." 

' '  Yes ;  he  was  about  done  up, ' '  Stanley  replied.  "  I  '11 
go  in  and  see  if  he  is  awake.  I'll  let  him  use  those 
crutches  of  Uncle  John's  if  you  don't  mind." 

"Take  them  along,"  Bill  Lakeman  said.  "You'll 
find  them  in  that  closet  back  of  the  stove." 

Stanley  opened  the  door  cautiously,  intending  not 
to  awaken  the  sleeper ;  but  his  precaution  was  unneces- 


30  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

sary.  The  young  man  was  awake,  and  evidently  in 
trying  to  arise  had  made  the  unpleasant  discovery 
that  there  could  be  no  walking  for  that  day  at  least. 
His  face  was  consequently  clouded.  It  is  not  pleasant 
to  be  disabled  and  among  strangers,  without  the  neces- 
sary means  to  pay  for  service  rendered.  To  one  of  his 
sensitive  nature  the  pain  of  that  thought  was  harder 
to  endure  than  physical  suffering.  His  manliness  and 
fortitude  came  to  his  assistance  in  the  latter  but 
shrank  from  him  in  the  former.  Stanley  read  some- 
thing of  all  this  in  the  troubled  look  he  saw  on  the 
other's  face  when  he  opened  the  door,  and  somehow 
his  respect  for  the  stranger  deepened. 

''Well,  sir;  I  hope  you  have  had  a  pleasant  sleep,'* 
was  his  cheerful  morning  greeting. 

''Indeed  I  have,"  the  other  answered.  "This  bed 
seemed  like  paradise  to  me  last  night.  It  also  made 
me  dream  of  my  grandmother." 

"When  I  was  away  at  school,  sleeping  on  a  two- 
fifty  mattress,  I  used  to  dream  of  these  old  beds,  I  can 
tell  you,"  Stanley  answered,  laughing.  "A  man  never 
appreciates  his  beds  at  home  until  he  gets  away  once." 

"No;  and  there  are  many  others  things  at  home, 
I'm  thinking,  that  he  doesn't  appreciate  until  he  gets 
away,"  the  other  answered  sadly.  With  Stanley's  as- 
sistance the  stranger  was  soon  able  to  join  Bill  Lake- 
man  in  the  kitchen,  which  served  also  as  a  dining 
room  and  to  a  great  extent  as  living  room,,  in  Aunt 
Sophronia's  absence.  Bill  Lakeman  had  prepared  an 
appetizing  breakfast  and  it  was  steaming  on  the  table 
when  he  heard  the  tap  of  the  crutches  and  turned  to 


IN  THE  HANDS  OF  INFIDELS  31 

welcome  the  young  stranger  quite  as  cordially  as  he 
v/ould  had  he  come  to  them  as  an  invited  guest. 

In  the  brief  moment  that  Bill  Lakeman  looked  at 
the  young  man  as  he  entered,  he  saw  a  clear-cut,  manly 
face  from  which  a  pair  of  blue  eyes  looked  straight 
into  his  own ;  light  hair,  of  which '  there  was  not  a 
heavy  growth;  a  sensitive  mouth  which  might  have 
denoted  weakness  had  not  that  trait  of  character  been 
strictly  denied  by  the  square-cut  firmness  of  the  chin 
beneath.  All  this  Bill  Lakeman  saw,  and  at  once  knew 
he  had  found  a  friend.  Stanley  Lakeman  had  made 
that  discovery  the  night  before.  Thus  in  this  brief 
period  of  time  the  young  man  had  passed  from  the 
stranger  class  into  that  of  friend.  He  was  not  aware 
of  this,  however,  so  he  still  strove  unsuccessfully  to 
put  from  his  mind  the  ever-recurring  question  of  how 
he  was  ever  to  repay  these  people  for  their  kindness. 
If  he  hadn't 

The  thought  was  put  from  him  forcefully,  for  he 
knew  he  had  done  his  duty  as  he  had  seen  it  and  would 
do  the  same  again. 

''Well,  young  man,"  Bill  Lakeman  said,  "I  hope 
you  have  an  appetite  this  morning.  You  see  cooking 
isn't  my  regular  line  and  I  haven't  just  got  my  hand 
in." 

The  young  man  smiled  appreciatively.  **You  need 
have  no  fears  along  that  line,"  he  said.  He  might 
have  confided  to  them  that  he  had  eaten  nothing  since 
breakfast  of  the  preceding  day,  but  he  thought  best 
to  leave  them  in  the  dark  as  to  that. 

Bill  Lakeman  might  have  thought  the  evident  pleas- 


32  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

lire  with  which  his  guest  partook  of  the  carefully  pre- 
pared breakfast  was  a  compliment  to  his  culinary 
ability,  but  a  certain  shrewdness  in  his  glance  seemed 
k)  say  he  had  guessed  a  reason  far  removed  from 
that.  There  were  no  questions  asked.  It  became  quite 
evident  none  would  be.  There  was  a  certain  grateful- 
ness in  the  breast  of  the  stranger  when  he  realized 
that  they  would  accept  him  for  what  they  believed  him 
to  be  and  that  there  would  never  be  the  necessity  for 
them  to  know  his  life  unless  he  chose  to  tell.  How- 
ever, he  did  choose  to  tell,  for  in  his  life  there  had 
never  been  anything  which  he  wished  to  hide.  The 
meal  was  half  finished  when  he  raised  his  eyes  and 
looked  straight  into  those  of  Bill  Lakeman. 

''Don't  you  think  it  is  about  time  for  me  to  intro- 
duce myself?"  he  said  with  a  smile.  ''Under  the  cir- 
cumstances I  think  you  have  a  right  to  wish  to  know 
something  about  me." 

"If  you  do  it  because  you  would  like  to  have  us 
know,  then  we  would  like  to  know.  If  you  do  it  from 
a  sense  of  duty,  it  is  unnecessary."  The  words  were 
Bill  Lakeman 's.  The  stranger  felt  that  they  were 
characteristic  of  the  bigness  of  the  man. 

"I  would  like  to  have  you  know,"  he  said.  "My 
name  is  Alfred  Stewart.  My  home  is  in  Glendon, 
Michigan." 

"And  my  name,  Mr.  Stewart,  is  Lakeman.  This  is 
my  son  Stanley." 

"When  Bill  Lakeman  had  made  this  simple  statement, 
Alfred  turned  and  looked  straight  at  Stanley  Lake- 
man.    It  has  been  said  that  there  are  times  when  men 


IN  THE  HANDS  OF  INFIDELS  33 

read  each  other's  souls.  Be  that  as  it  may,  we  do  not 
know.  But  as  Alfred  Stewart  and  Stanley  Lakeman 
each  looked  for  that  moment  into  the  eyes  of  the  other, 
they  were  given  to  know  that  from  henceforth  they 
would  be  friends.  It  is  well  that  the  question  of  mu- 
tual friendship  was  settled  definitely  at  that  psycho- 
logical moment,  for,  had  it  been  hanging  in  the  bal- 
ance, the  next  words  spoken  by  Alfred  Stewart  would 
probably  have  added  the  weight  to  the  wrong  side  of 
the  scales. 

''My  coming  to  you  as  I  did  last  night  must  seem 
very  strange,  "he  said.  ''I  will  tell  you  all  there  is  to 
tell  and  then  you  may  be  the  judges.  I  am  a  minister 
of  the  gospel — " 

Alfred  Stewart  was  enough  a  reader  of  humanity 
to  see  the  look  of  disappointment  on  the  faces  of  his 
hearers.  He  vaguely  wondered  if  here  they  were  to 
have  the  same  effect  they  had  on  another  occasion  not 
many  hours  before.  Bill  Lakeman  said  with  a  mirth- 
less laugh: 

''Young  man,  you  couldn't  have  given  yourself .  a 
worse  recommendation  in  this  family.  Stanley  and  I 
hate  preachers  as  we  hate  snakes.  In  fact,  we  don't 
think  there  is  much  difference.  And  you  will  probably 
think  as  much  less  of  us  when  I  tell  you  we  are  infi- 
dels." 

Alfred  Stewart  smiled.  He  was  much  less  afraid 
of  infidels  than  of  hypocritical  Christians.  He  usually 
found  an  infidel  perfectly  honest  and  sincere.  His 
quick  sense  of  humor  relieved  the  situation. 

"I'm  glad,  in  that  case,  I  didn't  tell  you  I  was  a 


34  THE    CALL   AT    EVENING 

preadher  last  night,"  he  said.  **I'm  afraid  I  should 
have  missed  that  good  hed  as  well  as  this  breakfast." 
He  had  not  intended  this  for  a  diplomatic  remark. 
Had  he  so  intended,  it  would  have  failed  miserably. 
As  it  was,  both  men  looked  relieved. 

''Furthermore,  my  own  ease  is  worse,"  he  continued. 
''I  can  understand  that  to  you  the  fact  that  a  preacher 
should  ever  get  to  need  assistance  as  I  needed  it  last 
night,  looks  a  little  extraordinary,  to  say  the  least. 
I  left  Usk  early  yesterday  morning  for  Bridgewater, 
where  I  expected  to  start  a  series  of  meetings.  I  had 
a  little  money;  not  much,  but  enough  to  pay  my  ex- 
penses. When  I  reached  this  station — well,  something 
happened;  I'd  rather  not  say  just  what,  but  I  decided 
to  walk.  I  felt  that  I  must  reach  Bridgewater  and 
there  was  nothing  to  do  but  forget  the  distance.  So 
I  started.  I  should  have  gotten  along  much  better, 
only  I  had  not  saved  back  enough  money  to  get  meals 
along  the  way.  I  had  a  foolish  pride,  too.  I  thought 
once  or  twice  I  would  stop  and  ask  to  cut  some  wood 
to  get  a  meal,"  he  went  on,  ''but  when  the  time  came 
I  just  couldn't  do  it.  I  was  not  above  cutting  the 
wood,  but  in  that  way  it  was  too  much  like  begging. 
So  I  just  walked  on  all  day  through  the  heat,  with 
nothing  to  keep  up  my  strength. 

' '  There  isn  't  much  more  to  tell.  You  can  easily  guess 
the  rest.  The  worst  part  was  my  accident,  which  has 
placed  me  in  an  awkward  position,  for  I  may  as  well" 
tell  you  frankly  that  I  am  not  in  a  position,  at  present, 
to  pay  you  for  your  kindness.  If  I  could  have  gone  on 
to-day,  it  would  not  have  seemed  quite  so  bad.    As  it 


IN  THE  HANDS  OF  INFIDELS  35 

is,  I  can  only  hope  to  relieve  you  of  the  burden  to- 
morrow." 

''No,  Mr.  Stewart,"  Stanley  said,  "you  will  not  be 
able  to  walk  on  that  foot  to-morrow,  the  next  day,  or 
the  next;  so  you  had  just  as  well  make  up  your  mind 
to  stay  with  us  that  long  at  least." 

Alfred  looked  terror-stricken.  The  thought  of  thus 
being  dependent  was  a  painful  one  to  him.  His  com- 
panions saw  this  and  their  hearts  warmed  to  him 
again,  regardless  of  their  knowledge  as  to  his  calling. 

"Oh,  I  can't  do  that,"  he  said. 

"You  must."  The  old  smile  was  back  in  Stanley's 
eyes.    "You  are  my  patient,  you  know." 

' '  'Twouid  be  unkind  of  you, ' '  Bill  Lakeman  said, 
"to  run  away  because  you  found  I  was  not  a  good 
cook." 

•  There  was  nothing  more  to  be  said.  He  would  find 
it  necessaiy  to  stay;  that  much  was  evident.  Alfred 
laughed  a  little  constrainedly.  "You  will  at  least  al- 
low me  to  write  for  enough  to  pay  my  board,  I  sup- 
pose?" 

Bill  Lakeman  laughed  and  slapped  his  guest  on  the 
back   good-naturedly. 

"You  mean  you  want  to  save  your  own  self-respect? 
Well,  go  ahead  and  write  your  letter.  But  in  the  mean- 
time don't  fret.  I've  got  to  put  the  house  in  order; 
Sophronia  will  be  back  to-day.  She  is  my  sister  who 
keeps  house  for  us,"  he  added,  as  an  explanation  to 
Alfred. 

"Why,  this  is  Wednesday,  to  be  sure,"  Stanley  said. 
**I'll  wash  the  dishes,  father,  while  you  straighten  the 


36  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

rest  of  the  house.  It  wouldn't  do  for  Aunt  Sophronia 
to  come  back  and  find  it  upset.  She  would  never  go 
again. ' ' 

"And  I'll  sit  in  this  chair  and  dry  them  for  you," 
Alfred  said. 

There  was  much  bustling  around  for  the  next  hour. 
The  young  men  had  completed  their  task  and  had 
seated  themselves  in  the  old  back  parlor  while  Bill 
Lakeman  was  putting  the  finishing  touches  on  the  room, 
when  the  door  opened  and  in  walked  Aunt  Sophronia 
herself. 

''Why,  Aunt  Sophronia!"  Stanley  exclaimed.  ''We 
were  not  expecting  you  so  early.  I  intended  meeting 
you  at  ten." 

"Well,  you  needn't,"  she  said.  "That  train's 
changed  time  and  I  reckon  I  know  the  way  home 
myself." 

She  was  in  the  act  of  setting  down  her  handbag  when 
her  eyes  fell  upon  Alfred  Stewart.  She  stared  at  him 
in  open-mouthed  astonishment.  Alfred  also  looked  very 
much  confused.    The  recognition  had  been  mutual. 

"Bill  Lakeman !"  she  said,  in  so  emphatic  a  tone  that 
he  and  Stanley  felt  she  was  about  to  bring  some  accu- 
sation against  their  guest.  In  fact,  the  look  on  Alfred's 
face  strengthened  this  feeling.  "Give  that  man  five 
dollars!" 

At  these  unexpected  words  Alfred  sprang  to  his  feet 
and  held  out  his  hand  imploringly.  "Don't,"  he  said; 
"he  has  paid  it  a  thousand  times." 

This  was  something  of  an  exaggeration,  but  Alfred 
was  excited.    When  Stanlev  and  his  father  had  recov- 


IN  THE  HANDS  OF  INFIDELS  37 

ered  from  their  astonishment,  Stanley  stepped  to  Al- 
fred's side  and  pushed  him  gently  back  into  his  chair. 

"When  I  tell  you  to  jump  on  that  foot,  you  jump; 
not  before,"  he  said.  ''Now,  Aunt  Sophronia,  you  can 
tell  your  story;  only  don't  excite  this  man  again;  he's 
my  patient. ' ' 

''Well,  I'll  declare!"  Aunt  Sophronia  began.  "I 
don't  know  what  I'd  done  if  it  hadn't  been  for  this 
man.  I  was  just  that  near  distracted  I  didn't  know 
what  to  do.  I  lost  that  pocketbook  you  gave  me ;  so 
when  I  got  into  Usk,  I  didn't  have  no  pocketbook,  no 
ticket,  no  nothing.  I'd  came  right  straight  back  home, 
but  law  me !  It  cost  as  much  to  come  home  as  it  did  to 
go  on,  and  I  didn't  have  no  money  to  do  neither.  Well, 
this  young  man,  he  just  see  me  nearly  worrying  my 
head  off  and  he  up  and  gave  me  five  dollars.  I  declare 
I  don't  know  w^hat  I'd  a  done." 

Bill  Lakeman  looked  for  a  moment  very  straight  at 
Alfred,  whose  face  flushed  painfully.  "So  that's  where 
your  money  w^ent,  is  it?  That's  why  you're  broke?" 
he  asked. 

"Yes,  Aunt  Sophronia,"  broke  in  Stanley,  laying  his 
hand  on  Alfred's  shoulder,  "this  young  man  gave  you 
all  the  money  he  had  and  walked  all  the  way  from  Usk 
to  Leesburg  without  a  bite  to  eat." 

This  was  too  much  for  Alfred.  Sheer  embarrassment 
forced  him  to  speak.  "Oh!"  he  remonstrated,  "it 
was  nothing." 

"Oh,  no!"  Stanley  mocked,  "it  was  nothing." 

Alfred's  embarrassment  was  very  much  relieved  as 
Bill  Lakeman 's  hearty  laugh  rang  out. 


38  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

''Well,  my  boy,"  he  said,  ''I  guess  you'll  not  insist 
on  writing  that  letter,  will  you?" 

' '  No, "  Alfred  said  faintly.    ' '  I  '11  not  insist. ' ' 

Then  Bill  Lakeman  went  out  into  the  yard,  away  from 
the  eyes  and  the  ears  of  the  others,  and  laughed  long 
and  heartily.  Perhaps  he  laughed  as  much  at  his  own 
expense  as  at  Alfred's  for  Alfred  was  a  preacher  and 
Bill  Lakeman  had  always  hated  preachers. 

Stanley  and  his  father  had  the  good  sense  to  appar- 
ently forget  the  occurrence,  which  seemed  such  an  em- 
barrassing one  to  their  guest.  But  Aunt  Sophronia 
could  not  refrain  from  an  occasional  ''Law  me!"  as 
she  moved  about  her  household  duties.  She  evidently 
had  plans  of  her  own  by  which  to  show  Alfred  how 
much  she  appreciated  his  kindness,  for  as  the  eleventh 
hour  drew  near,  very  appetizing  odors  came  stealing 
from- the  regions  of  the  kitchen.  Perhaps  she  guessed 
that  the  thoughts  of  not  being  able  to  pay  his  way  had 
kept  the  young  man  from  making  up  for  his  losses  of 
the  previous  day  at  breakfast.  At  any  rate  he  thought 
he  had  never  tasted  a  dinner  quite  so  fine  as  the  one 
she  soon  placed  before  them.  This  time  he  felt  per- 
fectly free  to  make  the  good  lady  happy  by  eating 
abundantly  of  the  repast  she  had  prepared. 

When  they  had  left  the  table  Stanley  said :  ' '  There 's 
one  thing  I  don't  understand;  that  is,  how  did  you 
come  to  get  to  our  place  up  here?  It  is  away  off  the 
road  and  your  head  was  not  clear  enough  to  have 
picked  it  out  if  you  had  tried." 

"No,"  Alfred  said;  "I  did  not  pick  it  out."  Then 
he  told  them  of  his  call  for  aid  at  the  Burnside  home. 


IN  THE  HANDS  OF  INFIDELS  39 

his  ejection  from  the  house,  its  cause,  and  of  the  help 
he  had  received  from  Jennie  Burnside.  Bill  Lakeman 
was  quite  indignant.  He  could  not  understand  how 
Marion  Burnside  could  possibly  stoop  so  low.  When 
Bill  Lakeman  had  gone  out,  Stanley  seated  himself  on 
the  arm  of  the  chair  in  which  Alfred  was  reclining  and 
laid  his  arm  on  the  other's  shoulder. 

**A  short  time  ago,"  he  said,  "I  had  a  talk  with  a 
young  lady  on  the  subject  of  infidelity.  Since  then  I 
have  done  a  great  deal  of  thinking.  It's  just  things 
like  this  that  puzzle  me.  Isn't  it  strange  that  you  should 
meet  Aunt  Sophronia,  and  as  a  result  of  befriending 
her  you  should  visit  Leesburg  when  you  had  no  inten- 
tion whatever  of  doing  so?  Arriving  in  Leesburg, 
that  you  should  come  to  this  house,  of  all  others — the 
one  there  would  be  the  least  likelihood  of  just  happen- 
ing on?    It  doesn't  seem  just  like  accident,  does  it?" 

''To  me,  the  hand  of  God  is  quite  plain  in  the  mat- 
ter," Alfred  said. 

''Perhaps  you  and  Hazel  are  right;  perhaps  there  is 
a  God  after  all.    I  wish  I  could  settle  that  question." 

Alfred  looked  up  quickly  and  caught  a  troubled  look 
on  Stanley's  face.  "Don't  worry  about  it,"  he  said. 
"Some  day  that  question  will  settle  itself  for  you  and 
you  will  know  there  is  a  God. ' ' 

As  evening  drew  near,  Stanley  detected  a  question 
on  the  face  of  his  friend. 

"What  now?"  he  said. 

' '  Nothing  serious  this  time, ' '  Alfred  answered.  ' '  But 
last  night  sometime  I  must  have  lost  my  books.  You 
know  a  preacher  without  books  could  never  be  a  sue- 


40  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

cess.  I  have  been  trying  to  figure  out  where  I  could 
have  lost  them.  I  know  I  had  them  when  Marion  Burn- 
side  came  to  the  door  and  bade  me  good-night.  .  .  .Well, 
we'll  not  worry  about  them." 

''The  way  other  things  have  worked  out,  it  would 
not  surprise  me  to  see  your  books  walk  in,"  Stanley 
bantered.  ''Shall  I  go  down  and  see  if  they  are  com- 
ing up  the  lane?" 

"I  don't  think  I  would  bother,"  Alfred  returned. 
"I  think  they  will  find  the  house  without  help.  Sup- 
pose we  move  out  where  we  can  call  them  if  we  see 
them  passing." 

Bill  Lakeman,  coming  up  just  in  time  to  hear  the 
boys'  laughter,  smiled  to  see  Stanley,  who  had  shared 
his  antipathy  for  preachers,  enjoying  the  association 
of  this  one  so  decidedly. 

The  delightfully  cool  breezes  which  came  with  the 
evening,  being  a  pleasing  contrast  to  the  heat  of  the 
summer  day,  soon  brought  Bill  Lakeman  to  his  favor- 
ite chair,  and  Aunt  Sophronia  with  her  needlework  to 
join  the  young  men  in  their  nook  beneath  the  honey- 
suckles, and  evening  had  again  settled  over  Leesburg. 


CHAPTER    5 

"MY  MOTHER  AMONG  THE  DAMNED?" 

JENNIE  BURNSIDE,  when  she  left  Alfred  at  the 
door  of  the  Lakeman  cottage  and  galloped  away 
into  the  night,  had  been  a  very  thoughtful  girl. 
She  realized  she  had  done  a  peculiar  thing  and  that, 
had  her  father  known,  he  would  have  been  very  angry. 
Yet  she  experienced  a  peculiar  satisfaction  with  life 
in  general. 

Surrounded  as  she  had  always  been  with  the  com- 
forts and  luxuries  of  life,  there  seemed  to  be  no  reason 
why  her  life  should  not  be  perfectly  happy  and  care- 
free. Yet  Jennie  Burnside  had  not  been  happy.  There 
had  come  into  her  life,  when  her  mother  died,  a  shadow 
which  had  never  lifted,  and  as  time  went  on  and  her 
own  mind  had  developed,  she  had  tried  to  think  and 
reason  away  the  shadow,  but  the  only  help  available^ — 
books  from  her  father's  library — ^had  only  succeeded  in 
making  deeper  the  blackness.  When  she  had  tried  to 
talk  to  the  minister,  thinking  one  so  learned  in  the 
things  of  God  could  tell  her  all  she  desired  to  know,  she 
had  found  only  that  the  burden  on  her  heart  could 
never  be  lifted;  that  throughout  this  life  and  the  eter- 
nity to  follow,  it  must  remain  the  same. 

As  she  rode  along  these  thoughts  came  crowding 
into  her  mind,  and  the  sorrow  she  had  forgotten  for  a 
time,  returned.     She  scarcely  noticed  when  the  little 


42  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

horse  slowed  to  a  walk  and  almost  stopped  by  the  road- 
side. "I  can't  help  it/'  she  murmured.  *'I  suppose  it 
is  wicked;  but  I'm  afraid  I  could  never  be  happy  in 
heaven.  Why,  Daisy,  what  is  the  matter?  Oh!"  In 
the  moonlight,  Jennie  had  discovered  a  small  black  case 
which  at  once  she  remembered  having  seen  that  evening 
in  the  hand  of  Alfred  Stewart.  ''It  must  have  been 
left  when  I  had  him  get  onto  the  horse. "  Jennie  smiled 
at  the  recollection.  ''What  shall  I  do  with  it?  I 
can't  take  it  up  there  to-night.  To-morrow  will  do 
quite  as  well." 

With  these  thoughts  in  mind,  she  touched  the  pony 
lightly  with  the  tip  of  her  whip  and  was  soon  stealing 
quietly  into  the  icy  grandeur  of  her  own  home.  On 
this  night,  however,  the  shadow  of  her  life  seemed  to 
clamor  for  thought ;  and,  strive  as  she  might,  she  could 
not  put  the  matter  from  her  mind  or  keep  the  sorrowful 
look  from  her  eyes.  Jennie  had  loved  her  mother  de- 
votedly and  at  best  would  never  have  ceased  to  miss 
her  and  long  for  her  companionship.  The  very  coldness 
of  her  father  and  the  equal  coldness  of  his  religion, 
made  this  feeling  the  more  intense.  And  to-night  the 
last  conversation  she  had  had  with  her  mother  came 
back  so  vividly  that  tears  were  brought  to  her  eyes 
by  the  memory. 

Her  father  had  been  reading  as  usual  from  the  Bible, 
and  she  had  noticed  a  peculiar  expression  on  her  moth- 
er's face.  Jennie  had  that  moment  realized  that  all 
her  religious  training  had  come  from  her  father;  that 
her  mother  had  never  spoken  to  her  of  religion  or  of 
God.    When  they  were  alone  she  had  asked:  "Mother, 


"MOTHER  AMONG  THE  DAMNED"  43 

don't  you  believe  in  God?"  Her  mother  had  looked 
at  her  doubtfully  for  a  moment,  and  then  said  sadly : 

' '  I  don 't  know,  daughter ;  but  I  want  you  to  believe. 
I  want  you  always  to  believe." 

''But,  mother,  why  don't  you?" 

''I  have  tried  to,  dear;  tried,  oh,  so  hard;  but  it 
seems  I  just  can't.  There  are  so  many  conflicting 
theories  in  the  world.  I  never  could  decide  which  was 
right.  Again,  when  I  sit  in  church  and  hear  the  say- 
ing, '  God  is  love, '  I  seem  to  see  on  every  hand  evidence 
that  God  is  not  a  God  of  love,  but  of  vengeance." 

"But,  mother,  if  you  should  die  feeling  that  way, 
what  would  become  of  your  soul?"  Jennie  had  cried, 
almost  in  alarm.  She  could  hear  yet  the  quiet  sadness 
of  her  mother's  voice  as  she  answered: 

''I  suppose  I  would  be  lost." 

''Then  why  don't  you  try  to  believe?"  she  had 
asked  again. 

"I  have  tried,"  her  mother  answered.  "But,  Jen- 
nie, I'  cannot;  at  least  I  could  not  love  God.  My 
mother  and  father  were  good,  kind-hearted  people, 
but  neither  of  them  believed.  If,  now,  I  would  accept 
religion  and  join  the  church,  I  would  do  it  knowing 
that  for  their  disbelief  and  infidelity  they  are  being 
punished  in  hell.  Your  father  read  to-night,  'He  that 
helieveth  and  is  baptized  shall  be  saved,  and  he  that 
believeth  not  shall  be  danmed.'  My  mother  among  the 
damned!  She  only  disbelieved  because  she  could  not 
be  true  to  herself  and  believe.  She  could  not  see  that 
way.  No !  No !  I  would  much  rather  believe  there  is 
no  God ;  that  when  life  is  done  all  is  ended.    There  i^ 


44  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

some  comfort  in  that  thought;  in  the  other  there  is 
none/' 

''But,  mother,  suppose  after  all  there  is  a  God,  what 
good  would  the  comfort  you  get  from  the  belief  that 
he  does  not  exist  do  you?  Would  it  not  be  better  for 
you  to  believe  and  save  yourself?" 

Mrs.  Burnside  answered  bitterly :  * '  If  it  is  true,  and 
my  mother  is  among  the  damned  I  could  never  be 
happy  in  heaven.  I  would  rather  share  her  exile  with 
her." 

One  short  week  later,  in  the  quiet,  shady  cemetery 
just  north  of  Leesburg,  Mrs.  Burnside  was  laid  to  rest, 
and  the  shadow  of  her  own  life  settled  over  the  life  of 
her  daughter.  For  Jennie  believed.  She  could  not 
even  comfort  herself  by  doubting  the  existence 
of  Grod.  She  had  never  again  enjoyed  her  elegant 
home  or  the  pleasures  of  life  around  her,  for  the  books 
in  her  father's  library  told  her  that  in  the  place  where 
her  mother  had  gone  there  was  "weeping  and  ^wailing 
and  gnashing  of  teeth." 

''Oh,    surely,    surely    God    could    not    do    it,"    she 

moaned  to-night,  as  she  seemed  to  hear  the  words  and 

see  again  the  sad,  sweet  face  of  her  mother.    Into  her 

own  heart  there  crept  a  feeling  of  rebellion.     "Oh,  if 

.  I  could  only  know." 

The  very  intensity  of  her  own  prayer  surprised  her, 
and  strangely  there  came  before  her  mind  again  the 
picture  of  the  white,  worn  face  of  the  stranger.  "An- 
other example,"  she  reasoned.  "He  is  spending  his 
time  working  for  God,  and  just  see  how  God  lets  him 


"MOTHER  AMONG  THE  DAMNED"  45 

suffer.  Oh,  mother,  I  am  like  you.  I  can't  see  the 
way;  I  can't  see  the  way." 

During  the  tumult  of  her  thoughts,  Jennie  had 
thrown  herself  into  a  chair  in  her  room,  utterly  un- 
mindful of  her  surroundings.  As  she  raised  her  head 
her  eyes  lighted  on  the  bookcase  at  her  feet. 

''Oh,  I  wonder  if  he  could  help  me  to  see.  If  I  only 
dared  ask  him !  Why  not  ? ' '  She  must  see  him  to-mor- 
row to  return  his  books.  That  was  the  work  in  life  he 
had  chosen.  Somehow  she  felt  she  could  talk  to  him; 
felt  that  he  would  understand.  Strangely  comforted, 
she  sought  her  bed,  determined  that  on  the  morrow 
she  would  make  one  more  effort  to  learn  of  the  things 
of  God,  and  fell  asleep. 


CHAPTER  6 
TO  THOSE  WHO  "SIT  IN  DARKNESS" 

WHEN  Bill  Lakeman  joined  Stanley  and  Alfred 
in  the  retreat  they  had  found  beneath  the 
honeysuckle,  he  was  surprised  to  find  that  he 
experienced  for  his  young  guest  nothing  of  the  aver- 
sion he  usually  entertained  for  preachers.  There  was 
no  restraint  in  the  smile  with  which  he  greeted  them. 

''Life  is  worth  living  on  an  evening  like  this,"  he 
said.  ''Look  at  the  sun  there;  it  just  naturally  hates 
to  go  down." 

"It  is  beautiful,  isn't  it?"  Alfred  replied.  "Just  see 
the  color  of  the  sky  there  above  the  trees.  I  always 
felt  that  I  would  like  to  be  an  artist  when  I  see  a  sky 
like  that." 

"Yes,"  Stanley  said;  "this  old  house  with  its  ivy 
vine,  Aunt  Sophronia  knitting  on  the  veranda,  the 
trees  and  the  hill  for  a  background,  finished  with  a 
sunset  like  that — who  would  not  w^ant  to  paint  it?" 

"Truly,"  Alfred  said,  "the  Creator  of  this  universe 
was  an  artist ! ' ' 

He  had  not  intended  to  say  that.  UncoiLsciously  he 
had  spoken  aloud.  Both  Stanley  and  his  father  under- 
stood, yet  a  strange  quiet  fell  upon  them.  Neither 
seemed  to  know  what  to  say ;  their  confusion  was  soon 
forgotten,  for  floating  on  the  evening  breeze  the  even 
rhythm  of  hoof  beats  came  to  tliem. 


THOSE  WHO  "SIT  IN  DARKNESS"  47 

*^We  are  evidently  going  to  have  company,'*  Stan- 
ley said,  then  laughed.  ' '  We  were  saying  a  monnent 
ago  your  books  might  walk  in.  I  do  believe  they  are 
coming  in  on  horseback. ' ' 

''I'm  afraid  not,"  Alfred  returned.  "'I  shall  proba- 
bly never  see  them  again." 

By  this  time,  emerging  from  the  trees,  the  horse  and 
rider  came  into  view. 

"Why,  it's  Jennie  Burnside,"  Bill  Lakeman  said. 
"What  can  bring  her  here?"  ' 

As  the  girl  drew  near,  Alfred  was  vaguely  wonder- 
ing how  he  would  find  wordsi  to  express  his  gratitude 
for  the  assistance  she  had  given  him.  He  was  also 
aware  that  a  meeting  with  her  would  be  embarrassing. 
She  sprang  lightly  from  the  horse  and  came  up  the 
walk  with  the  easy  grace  of  youth.  Alfred  almost 
gasped  when  he  became  aware  that  in  her  hand  she 
was  carrying  his  books. 

She  came  directly  to  the  group  beneath  the  honey- 
suckle, nodding  brightly  to  Aunt  Sophronia  as  she 
passed.  When  she  stood  beside  Bill  Lakeman  she 
stopped  and  said:  "Mr.  Lakeman,  last  night  it  was 
given  to  me  to  come  in  contact  with  one  who  was  badly 
in  need  of  assistance  which  I  was  unable  to  give  myself, 
so  I  took  the  liberty  of  sending  him  to  you.  I  felt  sure 
you  would  gladly  render  the  assistance  necessary.  I 
see  I  was  not  mistaken." 

Before  Bill  Lakeman  had  found  words  to  reply,  Al- 
fred had  struggled  to  his  feet  and  said  warmly : 

"Indeed  you  were  not;  and,  Miss  Burnside,  I  want 
now  to  express  to  you  both  my  thanks  for  what  you 


48  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

have  done,  but  do  not  find  words  at  my  command.  1 
can  only  leave  you  to  guess  the  extent  of  my  grati- 
tude." 

Stanley,  who  could  endure  anything  better  than 
spoken  praise,  interrupted:  ''Well,  Jennie,  those  are 
pretty  speeches,  but  I  am  most  curious  to  know  what 
that  thing  you  are  carrying  can  be." 

"Oh,"  she  answered,  ''I  found  it  last  night  where 
I  think  this  gentleman  must  have  left  it,  by  the  road- 
side." 

''You  don't  mean " 

''Yes,"  Alfred  answered  his  unspoken  question, 
"it's  my  books." 

Stanley  looked  at  Alfred  for  a  moment,  then,  humor 
predominating,  laughed  heartily. 

Jennie  and  Bill  Lakeman  did  not  understand  it,  but 
each  was  more  at  ease,  and  when  Aunt  Sophronia  had 
placed  a  chair  for  her,  Jennie  felt  much  of  the  dread 
with  which  she  had  looked  forward  to  this  interview 
slipping  from  her. 

With  characteristic  straightforwardness  she  turned 
to  Alfred.     "Mr. " 

"Stewart,"  he  supplied,  seeing  her  hesitation. 

"Mr.  Stewart,"  she  said,  "you  said  last  evening 
when  you  were  talking  to  my  father,  that  you  were  a 
minister  of  the  gospel,  did  you  not?" 

"It  is  my  pleasure  to  try  to  represent  Christ,"  he 
answered.    "I  believe  he  has  called  me  to  do  so." 

"It  may  seem  strange  to  you,  but  it  was  that  state- 
ment in  particular  which  brought  me  here  to-night.  I 
have  felt  for  some  time  that  I  must  talk  to  some  one 


THOSE  WHO  "SIT  IN  DARKNESS"  49 

who  understands  God  and  his  work,  but  have  shrunk 
from  speaking  to  them.  I  felt  perhaps  that  you  could 
understand  and  help  me." 

''I  shall  be  more  than  glad  to  do  anything  in  my 
power,"  he  said  gently. 

' '  Well,  you  see,  I  am  not  an  infidel, ' '  she  continued ; 
''but,  oh,  I  am  sometimes  so  much  afraid  I  will  be!" 

''What,  you,  Jennie!"  Stanley  exclaimed.  "I 
thought " 

"Yes,  I  know,"  she  interrupted,  "and  so  do  others; 
but  often  those  nearest  us  little  know  the  thoughts  of 
our  hearts.  It  may  seem  strange  that  I  should  speak 
of  it  in  this  way.  But  I  never  can  tell  you  how  much 
it  means  to  me.  I  tried  to  ask  our  minister,  but  was 
only  unhappy  as  a  result.  I  feel  sometimes  that  the 
Bible  cannot  be  true.  I  can  only  see  God  as  a  monster, 
when  I  should  reverence  him  as  a  father.  Mr.  Stewart, 
tell  me,  how  can  I  love  a  God  who  would  send  my 
mother  to  hell?  who  could  place  her  eternally  among 
the  damned  because  she  could  not  understand ;  because 
she  could  not  comprehend  him  and  his  work?" 

The  girl's  voice  ended  in  a  faint  sob.  A  sympathetic 
silence  was  over  those  who  listened.  Bill  Lakeman  and 
Stanley  felt  that  she  had  asked  Alfred  a  question  for 
which  no  answer  existed.  They  waited  eagerly  for 
him  to  speak.  When  the  words  finally  came  his  face 
and  voice  were  softened  with  suppressed  emotion. 

"You  couldn't,"  he  said.  "God  himself  would  not 
expect  you  to."  The  faces  of  his  hearers  showed  how 
utterly  unexpected  his  answer  had  been.  Alfred  con- 
tinued : 


50  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

There  are  so  many  conflicting  theories  in  the  world, 
taught  in  the  name  of  truth,  that  I  am  not  surprised 
that  your  mother  found  it  impossible  to  see  the  way. 
So  often  do  those  occupying  the  pulpits  of  our  land 
picture  to  us  the  God  of  vengeance  that  it  is  not  sur- 
prising that  we  grow  to  think  of  him  in  that  way. 
When  I  look  about  me  and  see  the  teachings  in  the 
world,  in  the  name  of  religion,  I  am  not  surprised  that 
thinking  men  and  women  are  drawn  into  infidelity. 
The  only  surprising  thing  to  me  is  that  there  remain 
any  who  believe." 

''Mr.  Stewart,  that  is  strange  talk  for  a  minister," 
Bill  Lakeman  said. 

"The  fact  that  it  is  strange,"  Alfred  answered  with 
feeling,  ''does  not  make  it  any  the  less  true.  Look  at 
it  yourself  for  a  moment.  Go  to  any  minister  of  your 
town  and  ask  him  what  he  believes  regarding  the  fu- 
ture state.  They  will  agree  this  far:  they  all  believe 
in  heaven  and  hell,  a  place  of  reward  and  a  place  of 
punishment.  They  tell  us  the  good  people  •  go  to 
heaven,  the  bad  to  hell,  a  never-ending  punishment. 
'But,'  says  our  thinking  man  or  woman,  'humanity 
cannot  be  divided  into  just  two  classes.'  You  know 
the  statement :  '  There  is  so  much  bad  in  the  best  of  us 
and  so  much  good  in  the  worst  of  us,'  etc.  That  is 
true.  We  are  such  a  strange  mixture  of  good  and  evil 
that  no  honest  person  will  lay  claim  to  being  either. 
Look  around  you  in  the  world.  For  every  good  man, 
I  mean  a  really  good  man,  and  for  every  bad  man,  there 
are  hundreds  who  could  be  called  neither.  Between 
these  two  extremes  will  be  found  every  phase  of  human 


THOSE  WHO  "SIT  IN  DARKNESS"  51 

character,  no  two  having  exactly  the  same  mixture  of 
good  and  evil.  Where  would  the  dividing  line  come? 
What  amount  of  the  mixture  of  evil  would  God  allow 
to  enter  heaven  and  what  amount  of  good  goes  into 
hell? 

''Our  doctors  of  divinity  are  ready  with  the  answer: 
They  who  believe  in  Christ  may  enter  heaven ;  they  who 
believe  not  must  enter  hell;  and  we  are  left  to  believe 
that  the  murderer  who,  before  he  goes  to  the  gallows, 
accepted  Christ,  is  among  the  fortunate  ones  who  stand 
before  the  throne  of  God  and  sing  his  praises  through- 
out eternity,  while  his  poor  victim  w'hose  life  he  took 
without  one  moment's  notice  and  who  had  no  such 
opportunity  must  spend  eternity  in  hell." 

As  Alfred  paused,  Bill  Lakeman  spoke,  his  voice  hard 
and  bitter.  ''All  that  being  true,  can  you  see  any  rea- 
son why  we  should  not  be  infidels?" 

"Yes,"  Alfred  answered  emphatically.  "I  see  one 
all-important  reason  why  you  should  not." 

"And  that  is  what,  may  I  ask?" 

"Simply  because  it  is  not  true." 

Silence  followed.  With  unseeing  eyes  they  watched 
the  sun  slip  behind  the  leafy  screen  of  the  trees  as  eve- 
ning settled  over  the  valley. 

Bill  Lakeman  faced  the  young  man  suddenly. 

"Mr.  Stewart,"  he  said,  "don't  you  believe  the 
Bible?" 

"Indeed  I  do,"  Alfred  answered. 
"I  quite  agree  in  all  you  have  said  regarding  the 
religious  world, ' '  Mr.  Lakeman  continued,  ' '  but  cannot 
quite  understand  your  position.    You  left  the  impres- 


52  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

sion  that  the  divines  were  wrong  in  their  answer  re- 
garding who  should  be  saved,  and  gave  us  to  under- 
stand that  you  are  not  in  sympathy  with  the  thought 
that  only  those  who  believe  in  Christ  are  to  be  saved. 
Does  not  the  Bible  which  you  have  just  professed  to 
believe  say,  ^He  that  believeth  and  is  baptized  shall  be 
saved,  and  he  that  believeth  not  shall  be  damned'?" 

*'Yes,"  Alfred  answered,  ''but  the  same  Bible  also 
says  every  knee  shall  bow  and  every  tongue  shall  con- 
fess Him." 

Bill  Lakeman  watched  the  first  shadows  of  evening 
playing  in  the  depth  of  the  grove  as  he  thoughtfully 
pondered  the  possibilities  of  the  quotation  Alfred  had 
just  used. 

''I  suppose,"  he  said  at  last,  ''that  you  believe  that 
verse  proves  that  all  will  be  saved.  I  have  investigated 
that  side  of  the  question,  also,  Mr.  Stewart,  and  am 
sorry  to  say  that  it  cannot  be  substantiated."  Disap- 
pointment was  evident  in  his  voice  as  he  spoke.  Per- 
haps unconsciously  he  had  hoped  his  own  position 
would  be  disproved.  Now  a  certain  hopeless  expression 
settled  on  his  face,  and  something  in  his  entire  atti- 
tude seemed  to  say,  "It  is  of  Jio  use." 

"You  are  right,  Mr.  Lakeman,"  Alfred  answered, 
' '  that  position  cannot  be  substantiated. ' '  Then,  seeing 
the  surprise  on  the  faces  of  those  to  whom  he  spoke, 
he  continued:  "Might  it  not  be  just  possible  that  the 
trouble  lies  farther  back — .that  we  cannot  reach  a  cor- 
rect conclusion  because  our  starting  point  was  wrong? 
We  seem  to  be  taking  the  starting  position  that  all  who 
do  not  enter  what  we  choose  to  term  heaven,  must  of 


THOSE  WHO  "SIT  IN  DARKNESS"  53 

necessity  be  sweltering  in  that  furnace  which  in  our 
minds  we  call  hell.  Might  not  the  trouble  lie  there? 
Is  it  true  that,  regardless  of  all  the  varying  characteris- 
tics, regardless  of  the  fact  that  no  two  persons  contain 
exactly  the  same  amount  of  good,  or  develop  to  the 
same  degree  of  perfection,  that  there  are  just  two  places 
of  consignment?  They  are  either  ushered  into  heaven 
to  dwell  in  the  presence  of  God  and  Christ  or  are  to  be 
sent  to  hell,  there  to  endure  the  pangs  of  never-ending 
torture?'' 

''Just  what  do  you  mean?"  Jennie  asked  breath- 
lessly. 

''Christ  said,"  Alfred  answered,  "in  his  Father's 
house  were  many  mansions,  but  he  went  to  prepare  a 
place  for  his  disciples,  that  where  he  was,  there  they 
mig*ht  be  also.  Now  it  is  quite  evident  that  the  man- 
sions mentioned  there  were  not  where  Christ  would  be, 
or  were  not  where  he  intended  his  disciples  to  spend 
their  eternity.  Yet  they  were  mansions.  Then  think 
again.  Christ  gives  us  this  scene :  It  is  the  time  of 
judgment — Christ  sitting  on  the  throne  with  his  holy 
angels  around  him,  passing  judgment  on  the  nations. 
He  has  divided  them  into  two  divisions  which  he  speaks 
of  as  sheep  and  goats.  Those  representing  the  sheep 
were  gathered  on  the  right  hand;  those  representing 
the  goats,  on  the  left.  Turning  to  those  on  the  right 
hand  whom  he  speaks  of  as  righteous,  he  uses  these 
words:  'Come  ye  blessed  of  my  Father,  inherit  the 
kingdom  prepared  for  you  from  the  foundation  of  the 
world.'  " 

"But,  Mr,   Stewart,"  Jennie  interrupted,  "do  you 


54  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

not  think  that  simply  means  they  are  to  enter  heaven?'' 
''In  using  the  word  'simply'  you  narrow  your  ques- 
tion, Miss  Burnside,"  Alfred  answered,  "until  I  am 
compelled  to  give  a  negative  reply.  That  kingdom 
would  undoubtedl}^  represent  heaven  to  them,  but  I 
do  not  think  it  can  be  that  heaven  which  is  the  dwell- 
ing place  of  God  and  Christ.  Paul  said  he  knew  a 
man  who  had  been  caught  up  to  the  third  heaven;  now 
which  of  the  three  heavens  is  that  heaven  to  which 
these  blessed  were  sent  I  cannot  say.  This  much  seems 
quite  clear,  however.  It  was  not  the  place  to  which 
Christ  intended  taking  his  disciples,  for  he  said  this 
kingdom  had  been  prepared  from  the  foundation  of  the 
world.  While  to  his  disciples  he  said,  'If  I  go  to  pre- 
pare a  place  for  you,  I  will  come  again,  and  receive 
you  unto  myself,  that  where  I  am,  there  ye  may  be 
also.'  (John  14:  3.)  He  was  speaking  here  just  a  short 
time  before  his  crucifixion ;  the  heaven  for  his  disciples 
had  not  yet  been  prepared. 

"Again,  in  the  judgment  scene,  when  he  had  given 
the  blessed  the  reason  for  their  reward,  they  were 
astonished  and  did  not  seem  to  understand.  He  ex- 
plained that  in  feeding,  clothing,  and  helping  his  dis- 
ciples (notice  he  speaks  of  his  disciples  as  a  class  dis- 
tinctly separate  from  themselves)  they  had  helped  him. 
Their  service  had  been  unconscious  service.  Do  you 
think  the  disciples  of  Christ  would  not  have  known  ?  Do 
you  think  they  would  show  surprise  when  Christ  gave 
them  a  reward?  No;  they  had  looked  forward  and 
expected  a  reward  from  the  time  they  had  entered  his 
service.    It  is  quite  evident  to  me  that  these  were  not 


THOSE  WHO  "SIT  IN  DARKNESS"  55 

professed  believers  in  Christ.  Perhaps  the  false  teach- 
ings of  the  world  had  so  confused  them  that  they,  too, 
could  not  see  the  way. ' ' 

Stanley  Lakeman,  who  had  listened  intently  while 
Alfred  was  speaking,  was  pacing  slowly  up  and  down 
the  narrow  path.  This  in  itself  was  evidence  of  deep 
thought.  The  expression  of  earnestness  on  his  face  as 
he  stopped  suddenly  and  faced  Alfred,  made  that  young 
man  lift  his  heart  in  prayer  that  God  would  help  him 
lead  this  man  to  the  light. 

"Your  thought  is,  if  I  understand  you,"  Stanley 
said,  ''that  there  is  a  heaven  prepared  for  those  who 
have  done  good  in  this  life  because  it  was  good  and 
not  because  they  were  followers  of  Christ,  separate  and 
distinct  from  that  reward  which  will  go  to  the  Chris- 
tian?" 

"So  that  passage  would  seem  to  imply,"  Alfred  an- 
swered. "To  put  it  in  other  words,  we  might  call  it 
different  degrees  of  reward.  Paul  seemed  to  have  that 
thought  in  mind  when  writing  to  the  Corinthians  (1 
Corinthians  15:41).  He  said:  'There  is  one  glory  of 
the  sun,  and  another  glory  of  the  moon,  and  another 
glory  of  the  stars :  for  one  star  differeth  from  another 
star  in  glory. '  In  the  next  verse  he  adds,  '  So  also  is  the 
resurrection  of  the  dead.'  In  the  twenty- third  verse, 
speaking  of  the  resurrection  of  the  dead,  he  uses  this  ex- 
pression: 'Every  man  in  his  own  order.'  We  read  in 
John's  account  of  his  wonderful  vision  on  the  Isle  of 
Patmos  (Revelation  20:12)  these  words:  'And  I  saw 
the  dead,  small  and  great' — that  would  seem  to  imply 
all' — 'stand  before  God;  and  the  books  were  opened: 


56  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

and  another  book  was  opened,  which  is  the  book  of 
life:  and  the  dead  were  judged  out  of  those  things 
which  were  written  in  the  books,  according  to  their 
works.'  The  thirteenth  verse  repeats  that  assertion, 
'And  they  were  judged  every  man  according  to  their 
works.' 

"Now  it  is  evident  that  all  men  will  not  have  done 
the  same  amount  of  good ;  hence  if  they  are  to  be 
judged  'according  to  their  works'  we  see  how  it  will 
be  necessary  that  there  be  many  degrees  of  glory,  as 
Paul  expresses  it,  'for  one  star  differeth  from  another 
star  in  glory.'  That  would  make  it  seem  that  the  re- 
wards of  the  next  life  would  be  as  varied  as  the 
heavens.  Let  us  illustrate  it  in  this  manner.  Suppose 
you  were  the  judge  in  one  of  our  court  rooms  and  two 
cases  were  brought  before  you  for  trial.  One  was  a 
murderer,  who  for  worldly  gain  had  taken  the  life  of 
a  fellow  creature.  The  other  a  poor  mother,  sick  and 
out  of  work,  who  had  stolen  one  loaf  of  bread  to  feed 
hungry  babies.  You  would  try  both  cases  and  say,  'I 
will  judge  them  according  to  their  works.'  Then  you 
would  proceed  to  pronounce  a  sentence  of  life  impris- 
onment on  both.  You  would  hardly  bo  consistent, 
would  you?  Yet  that  is  what  the  religious  world 
would  have  us  believe  Christ  will  do.  No!  no!  Paul 
understood  better.  He  said,  'Every  man  in  his  own 
order.'" 

"Mr.  Stewart,"  Stanley  said,  "I  hope  you  are  right; 
I  sincerely  hope  you  are  right." 

"Yes,"  his  father  agreed,  "that  would  lighten  the 
situation  greatly.    I  can  assure  you  I  am  no  infidel  by 


THOSE  WHO  "SIT  IN  DARKNESS"  57 

choice.  Several  times  I  have  thought  I  had  reached 
a  solution  of  the  question,  only  to  find  myself  groping 
in  deeper  darkness.  What  you  have  said  to-night 
makes  me  anxious  to  hear  more.  And,  Mr.  Stewart,  I 
think  Jennie  and  Stanley  will  sanction  what  I  am  about 
to  say.  This  is  a  big  question  and  an  important  one. 
If  you  will  do  so,  we  would  be  glad  to  have  you  during 
the  evenings  which  are  to  follow,  tell  us  as  much  as  pos- 
sible of  your  belief  along  these  lines.  If  you  should 
enable  us  to  see  the  way,  you  will  have  done  us  a  far 
greater  service  than  we  ever  have  or  ever  could  do  for 
you.'' 

Before  Alfred  could  frame  a  reply,  Jennie  Burnside 
arose  from  her  chair  and  held  out  her  hand  to  him. 
''Mr.  Stewart,"  she  said,  ''if  you  were  ever  lost  in 
the  dark  and  had  despaired  of  ever  finding  the  light 
again,  you  can  understand  how  much  this  means  to 
us.  If  you  will  give  us  the  benefit  of  your  enforced 
^visit  with  us,  we  shall  be  very  glad.  If  you  consent  T 
will  come  again  to-morrow  night,  if  I  may." 

"I  shall  be  glad  to  tell  you  all  I  know  of  the  plan 
of  salvation,"  he  returned.  "We  might  have  a  sort  of 
round  table.  Could  you  bring  your  Bibles?"  Alfred 
asked. 

"Yes,  indeed,"  Stanley  answered.  "And,  Jennie,  if 
this  preacher  gets  too  '  long-winded '  and  keeps  you  out 
late,  I'll  take  Spider  and  ride  home  with  you." 

So  it  was  arranged,  and  Alfred  lifted  his  heart  to 
God  in  thanksgiving  that  thus  the  way  was  opened  be- 
fore him  that  the  gospel  might  be  presented  to  those 
who  "sit  in  darkness." 


CHAPTER  7 
AN  APPEAL  FOR  HELP 

NO  WORD  was  spoken  between  Bill  Lakeman  and 
Alfred  as  they  watched  Stanley  accompany  Jen- 
nie to  the  gate  and  assist  her  to  mount.  She  sat 
with  the  easy  grace  of  one  who  is  often  in  the  saddle, 
and  as  she  rode  away  into  the  gathering  gloom,  the 
movements  of  her  lithe  body  blending  perfectly  with 
that  of  her  steed,  made  a  very  pleasing  picture. 

Stanley  watched  her  disappear  among  the  trees.  **I 
cannot  see  how  it  is  possible,"  he  said  as  he  rejoined 
Alfred  and  his  father,  "for  a  man  like  Marion  Burnside 
to  be  the  father  of  a  girl  like  elennie.  I  could  not  help 
thinking,  as  I  watched  her,  how  unlike  they  are." 

''She  is  much  like  her  mother,"  his  father  returned. 
''Mrs.  Burnside  was  a  very  fine  woman.  We  all  felt 
that  she  was  wasted  as  the  wife  of  Marion  Burnside, 
for  financial  success  alone  can  never  make  a  man. 
Mrs.  Burnside  never  seemed  happy.  I  never  suspected 
that  she  was  in  any  manner  an  unbeliever.  She  always 
went  to  church  with  her  husband,  although  now  I  re- 
call having  never  heard  of  her  becoming  a  church  mem- 
ber.   We  never  know.    We  never  know." 

The  quiet  of  evening  seemed  to  settle  over  the  three 
as  they  still  stood  beneath  the  honeysuckle.  Far  down 
the  hill,  from  among  the  willows  which  fringed  the 
creek,  a  firefly  darted  out,  lighting  up  the  evening  like  a 


AN  APPEAL  FOR  HELP  59 

tiny  meteor  gliding  by;  then  all  was  darkness  again. 
Somewhere  near  by  a  cricket  sent  out  his  shrill  call  on 
the  evening  air  and  was  answered  by  a  lone  frog  in  a 
far-away  swamp.  These,  however,  were  only  the  begin- 
ning. Other  crickets  joined  their  voices,  and,  as  if 
awakened  by  the  call  of  their  mates,  other  inhabitants 
of  the  shadowed  swamp  took  up  the  chorus  until  the 
valley  was  a-ring  with  the  sounds  of  night.  From  over 
in  the  meadow  beyond  the  barn  came  the  wailing 
notes  of  the  whippoorwill  as  he  reiterated  over  and 
over  his  command. 

Silently,  for  the  spell  of  evening  was  on  them,  Bill 
Lakeman  led  the  way  into  the  house  and  lighted  the 
lamp.  Alfred  dropped  into  a  chair,  with  his  crutch 
lying  idly  on  his  arm.  Stanley  walked  to  the  window 
and  gazed  at  the  dim  outlines  of  the  trees  of  the  grove. 
Bill  Lakeman  stood  regarding  intently  but  not  seeing 
the  lamp  he  had  just  lighted. 

''Are  you  Doctor  Lakeman?" 

As.  Stanley  turned  quickly,  his  eyes  fell  on  a  boy 
of  some  six  or  eight  summers,  standing  in  the  doorway. 
In  the  dim  light  he  made  a  strange  picture.  The  cloth- 
ing which  covered,  not  adorned,  the  frail  body  had 
evidently  been  made  from  cloth  which  had  served  and 
served  well  some  previous  purpose.  Nor  was  this  all : 
Its  life  in  its  present  condition  had  been  lengthened  and 
relengthened  by  the  addition  of  many  a  patch.  In  some 
instances  patch  placed  upon  patch  revealed  the  fact 
that  the  patching  process  had  begun  long  ago,  nor  was 
it  yet  at  an  end.  However,  it  was  not  the  patched 
clothing  which  made  the  picture.     Perhaps  it  was  the 


60  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

air  with  which  that  clothing  was  worn,  or  it  might 
have  been  the  unconscious  grace  with  which  the  bat- 
tered felt  hat,  many  sizes  too  large,  had  been  removed 
and  was  now  held  gracefully  between  two  small  brown 
hands.  It  may  have  been  all  this,  yet  I  think  it  was 
more  the  proud  poise  of  the  small  curly  head,  the  anx- 
ious light  in  the  great  dark  eyes. 

Stanley  came  forward  to  meet  him  and  led  him  more 
directly  into  the  circle  of  light.  In  the  soft,  almost 
affectionate  tone  he  always  used  with  children,  he  said : 

''I  am  Doctor  Lakeman,  my  boy.  What  can  I  do  for 
you?" 

''My  mother  would  like  for  you  to  come  at  once. 
Baby  Mary  is  very  sick.    Mother  says,  'Please  hurry.'  " 

The  little  voice  was  subdued,  almost  to  a  whisper, 
by  the  near  proximity  of  tears.  Stanley  threw  an  arm 
across  his  shoulder  and  drew  him  gently  to  his  side. 
"Where  does  your  mother  live,  sonny?  Which  is  the 
quickest  waj^  to  go?" 

"We  live  down  on  the  levee,"  the  child  returned. 
"It's  quickest  to  go  down  past  the  Smith  place  on  the 
hig*hway.    It's  farther  down  through  town." 

"All  right.  Suppose  you  wait  here  for  me.  Perhaps 
I'll  need  you  to  show  me  the  way.  Do  you  think  you 
could  ride  with  me  on  a  horse?" 

The  child's  eyes  gladdened.  One  of  the  dreams  of 
his  life  had  been  to  some  day  ride  a  beautiful  horse 
like  he  had  seen  back  on  grandfather's  farm  ever  and 
ever  so  long  ago. 

Stanley  was  gone  only  a  moment.  Bill  Lakeman  had 
disappeared  as  soon   as  the  child's  appeal  had  been 


AN  APPEAL  FOR  HELP  61 

given,  and  by  the  time  Stanley  emerged,  medicine  case 
in  hand,  his  father  was  leading  Spider,  saddled  and 
bridled,  to  the  stoop. 

"Thank  you,  father.  That  was  a  big  help,"  his  son 
said  as  he  threw  himself  into  the  saddle  and  held  out 
his  hand  to  the  boy.  His  father  had  been  too  quick  for 
him.  He  had  lifted  the  boy  into  his  place  almost  as 
soon  as  Stanley  had  settled  himself.  The  dumb  appeal 
in  the  child's  eyes  had  stirred  Bill  Lakeman  deeply. 

''Do  your  best,  boy;  do  your  best,"  he  said  to  Stan- 
ley a^  he  started  off.  Stanley  only  nodded  his  reply. 
But  Bill  Lakeman  knew  that  his  son's  fighting  spirit 
had  been  aroused  and  that  he  would  fight  with  his 
might.  Stanley  also  knew  that  in  spirit  his  father 
would  be  fighting  with  him  and  he  felt  that  he  must 
win.^  Stanley  had  received  many  such  an  eleventh-hour 
call,  and  he  instinctively  knew  that  in  this  case  he  had 
been  called  almost,  if  not  quite,  too  late.  The  anxiety 
and  appeal  in  the  child's  eyes,  the  almost  hopeless  tone 
in  his  voice  had  conveyed  his  message  well.  Stanley 
held  the  boy  tightly  and  gave  the  pony  free  rein,  and 
she  ran  as  she  had  run  once  before  that  day,  only  now 
there  was  no  spirit  of  frolic  in  her  running.  Spider 
knew  her  master— knew  that  now  he  depended  on  her 
and  that  the  need  was  very  great. 


CHAPTER  8 
A  BATTLE  WITH  DEATH 

LEESBURG  is  not  all  beautiful;  not  all  homelike; 
not  all  comfortable;  not  all  peaceful.  Scarcely 
ten  blocks  removed  from  the  elegant  home  of 
Squire  Parsons  one  might  enter  that  portion  of  the 
city  known  as  the  levee;  so  near,  yet  so  far  removed 
from  the  peace  and  quiet  of  that  Leesburg  which  con- 
sidered itself  respectable ;  for  to  live  on  the  levee  was 
to  be  an  outcast  from  all  that  was  respectable,  as  Lees- 
burg viewed  respectability. 

Here,  grouped  around  Mike  Farrell's  saloon,  were 
the  dwellings  of  the  poor  and  the  dissolute.  Shanties 
they  were  where  sickly,  sad-faced  women,  broken  in 
body  and  spirit,  and  dirty,  quarrelsome  children  en- 
dured day  after  day  of  life  as  it  came,  not  daring  to 
look  into  the  future  with  its  hopeless  aspect,  having  no 
ambitions,  no  dreams,  where  smiles  never  came  and 
where  hearts  were  hardened  beyond  tears.  Even  the 
grasses  and  trees  which  grew  prolifically  in  other  parts 
of  the  city  seemed  smitten  by  the  spirit  of  the  place, 
and  after  battling  fitfully  for  life,  gave  up  the  struggle 
as  hopeless,  and  died. 

Leaving  Mike  Farrell's  place  and  going  north  along 
the  levee,  up  past  the  place  where  the  highway  skirted 
the  northern  end  of  Strong  Lake  and  crossed  the 
bridge,  above  the  fallen  sycamore  tree  which  dipped  its 


A  BATTLE  WITH  DEATH  63 

topmost  branches  in  the  waters  of  Turkey  Creek,  just 
before  the  waters  of  that  little  stream  lost  themselves 
with  a  last  contented  murmur  in  the  waters  of  the  lake, 
on  around  the  bend  in  the  road,  a  trail  suddenly  leaves 
the  highway  and  loses  itself  among  the  trees.  Perhaps 
one  hundred  yards  from  this  trail  a  tiny  cabin  nestled, 
protected  by  the  foliage  of  a  great  oak  tree  which  grew 
by  its  side.  This  cabin  was  in  some  respects  not  un- 
like its  neighbors  on  the  other  side  of  the  levee.  It 
needed  no  keen  observer  to  tell  that  poverty  had  here 
a  permanent  abode.  However,  it  was  also  evident  that 
there  was  a  vast  difference  in  the  poverty  which  dwelt 
here  and  that  which  had  its  dwelling  among  the  shacks 
around  Mike  Farrell's  saloon.  For  here,  poverty  dwelt 
alone.  Its  boon  companion,  squalor,  had  never  been 
permitted  to  enter. 

There  were  no  shades  to  the  windows.  They  were 
only  protected  from  within  by  clean,  white  muslin  cur- 
tains, while  their  outer  protection  was  tiny  vines  of 
morning-glory,  bravely  climbing  the  white  twine 
strings  placed  by  careful  hands  to  assist  them  in  their 
upward  aspirations. 

The  cabin  consisted  tof  three  small,  unfinished  rooms. 
The  smallest  of  the  three  served  as  a  combined  kitchen 
and  dining  room.  Prom  this  one  ascended  two  steps 
and  entered  the  largest  room  in  the  house.  There  were 
no  carpets  on  the  floors,  and  the  entire  room  was  bare 
of  ornamentation  as  it  was  also  practically  bare  of 
furniture.  A  box,  around  which  curtains  were  hung 
and  on  which  a  small  oil  lamp  was  burning,  sat  in  one 
comer.     Two  chairs,  two  beds,  and  a  mantel  on  which 


64  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

the  remains  of  a  broken  mirror  had  been  placed,  made 
up  the  balance  of  the  furnishings  of  the  room.  Even 
the  scrupulous  cleanliness  of  the  place  could  not  hide  its 
pitiful  poverty.  One  thing  only  seemed  to  suggest  that 
anything  but  poverty  had  ever  been  the  lot  of  those 
who  called  this  home:  one  of  the  chairs  was  a  heavy 
oak  rocker,  not  of  elaborate  design ;  it  did  not  betoken 
wealth,  yet  seemed  to  belong  to  that  condition  of 
comfort  which  had  never  known  the  extremes  of  either 
wealth  or  poverty.  It  seemed  strangely  out  of  place 
among  the  other  rude,  home-made  furniture. 

On  one  of  the  beds,  lying  so  quietly  as  to  have  the 
appearance  of  death,  was  a  child.  A  mass  of  brown, 
curly  hair  lay  in  confusion  on  the  pillow,  where  it  had 
been  brushed  back  from  a  face  from  which  every  par- 
ticle of  color  had  fled.  The  eyes  were  closed  and  only 
the  gentle  rising  and  falling  of  the  muslin  covering 
gave  evidence  that  life  had  not  fled.  There  was  only 
one  other  occupant  in  the  room.  A  woman  knelt  be- 
side the  bed  on  which  lay  the  silent  form  of  the  child, 
with  her  face  buried  in  her  hands,  her  lips  moving  as  if 
in  prayer. 

*' Mother's  here,  baby  Mary,  mother's  here.  Yes — '" 
the  soft  mother  voice  trailed  off  into  silence.  The  lit- 
tle one  had  stirred  uneasily  and  then  lay  again  in  the 
same  immovable  stupor. 

Oh,  would  he  never  come?  Would  he  never  come? 
Her  eyes  filled  with  agony,  the  mother  watched  the 
clock  on  the  mantel.  How  slowly  the  minutes  dragged, 
and  yet  every  tick,  tick  of  the  clock  fell  on  the  moth- 
er's  heart   like   the   dread  footsteps   of   approaching 


A  BATTLE  WITH  DEATH  65 

death.  The  woman  arose,  walked  to  the  window,  and 
peered  out  into  the  darkness.  Seeing  nothing,  she  re- 
turned once  more  to  the  bedside  of  the  child  and  fell 
on  her  knees,  this  time  voicing  the  prayer  of  her  heart. 
''0  Gtod,"  she  pleaded,  ''don't  let  baby  die  before 
the  doctor  gets  here.  Guide  Joey,  dear  God.  Guide 
Joey." 

Ah,  when  the  heart  is  full; 

When  bitter  thoughts  come 

Crowding  thickly  up  for  utterance  .  .  . 

How  much  the  bursting  heart 

May  pour  itself  in  prayer. 

The  mother  prayed  on. 

It  is  possible  that  had  one  questioned  her  closely 
under  more  favorable  circumstances,  on  the  subject  of 
prayer,  she  would  have  answered,  as  would  many  an- 
other of  that  great  throng  who  believe  so  ardently  in 
prayer,  but  who  consider  the  day  of  revelation  past, 
and  who  expect  no  answer  from  God  except  that  he 
should  ''speak  peace  to  the  heart"  or  "guide  the 
mind": 

"Oh,  we  can't  expect  miracles  now.  That  is  all  in 
the  past." 

However  that  may  be,  to-night,  in  the  anguish  of 
her  heart,  the  creeds  of  the  day  were  forgotten  and  she 
only  realized  herself  as  an  afflicted  child  voicing  her 
greatest  need  to  a  loving  parent.  She  realized  all  too 
plainly  the  near  approach  of  death  unless  help  came. 
She  could  only  make  the  appeal:  "Don't  let  baby 
Mary  die." 


i^: 


66  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

Who  shall  say  that  the  ear  of  love  did  not  hear?  Or 
that  the  Omnipotent  arm  was  shortened?  We  only 
know  that  when  a  few  minutes  later  Stanley  entered 
with  his  little  guide,  he  found  the  mother  still  praying 
by  the  side  of  her  sleeping  child.  So  earnest  was  her 
prayer  that  she  did  not  know  when  Joey  pushed  open 
the  door  and  the  tall  figure  of  the  young  doctor  en- 
tered. 

''Mamma,  mamma,"  the  boy  cried,  ''here's  the  doc- 
tor.   See,  I  found  him,  mamma!" 

"Thank  heaven." 

As  the  woman  arose  and  extended  her  hand  to  Stan- 
ley, he  could  scarcely  suppress  an  exclamation  of  sur- 
prise. His  profession  had  brought  him  many  times  in 
touch  with  those  living  on  the  levee  and  he  knew  most 
of  them  by  sight.  He  felt  that  he  certainly  knew  them 
as  a  class.  His  practiced  eye  told  him  that  here  was 
one  far  removed  in  the  spirit  of  things  from  the  en- 
vironment which  surrounded  her.  The  face  of  the 
woman  bespoke  refinement.  Her  soft  dark  hair  fell  in 
graceful  waves,  back  from  a  forehead  smooth  and 
white.  Great  dark  eyes  gazed  at  him  appealingly 
from  under  finely  arched  brows.  The  lips  were  full 
and  red,  parting  over  a  set  of  even  white  teeth.  Stan- 
ley saw  all  this  and  more:  saw  the  hunted  look  of 
the  mother  whose  baby  is  about  to  be  taken  from  her, 
and  realized  that  those  deep  dark  eyes  with  their  agony 
of  appeal  were  saying  to  him,  "You  are  my  only -hope." 
She  was  young,  it  seemed  to  Stanley  as  he  gazed  at  her ; 
far  too  young  for  the  lines  of  care  already  showing  on 
her  face.     It  was  a  beautiful  face,  beautiful  with  a 


A  BATTLE  WITH  DEATH  67 

certain  spiritual  beauty  which  defied  description.  Her 
garments,  like  those  of  her  son,  showed  evidence  of  re- 
peated mendings,  yet  were  worn  with  a  certain  dignity 
and  grace,  an  unconsciousness  of  manner  which  added 
much  to  the  pleasing  personality  of  the  woman. 

''You  are  Doctor  Lakeman,  I  believe?"  she  asked  in 
tones  soft  and  musical.  "I  can  never  tell  you  how  glad 
I  am  to  have  you  come." 

"And  I  am  glad  to  be  here,  if  I  can  be  of  service  to 
you,"  he  returned.  "Your  son  has  told  me  your  name, 
Mrs.  Bennett,  so  I  feel  that  we  are  already  acquainted.'' 

"Yes,"  Mrs.  Bennett  answered,  laying  her  hand  af- 
fectionately on  the  boy's  head.  "I  had  no  one  else 
to  intrust  with  my  message.  I  am  afraid  I  have  a 
very  sick  baby,"  she  continued,  moving  nearer  the  bed. 
' '  She  has  been  sick  for  several  days,  but  not  until  this 
afternoon  did  I  realize  how  very  sick  she  was.  I  am 
so  glad  you  came,  doctor;  I  was  almost  afraid  I  had 
sent  too  late." 

Stanley  moved  nearer  the  bed  and  gazed  with  pro- 
fessional eyes  at  the  unconscious  child.  A  moment 
later,  w^hen  he  raised  his  eyes  once  more  to  the  face  of 
the  woman  beside  him,  doubt  was  written  very  plainly 
on  his  face. 

"I  wish  you  had  sent  for  me  sooner,"  he  said. 

"I  didn't  dare  send,"  she  answered,  almost  in  a 
whisper,  "until  I  knew  my  baby's  life  depended  on  it. 
I  could  see  no  way  to  pay  for  the  service." 

"I  am  sorry  you  felt  that  way,"  he  returned 
earnestly.     "I  would  have  been  glad  to  come.     How- 


68  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

ever,  now  that  I  am  here,  we  will  start  the  fight  at 
once^  will  we  not?" 

The  smiles  came  quickly  to  the  face  of  the  mother. 
His  confident  tone  gave  her  hope  and  made  her  feel  that 
she  was  not  fighting  alone. 

Stanley  laid  aside  the  light  coverlet  and  carefully  ex- 
amined the  sick  child. 

"Now,  Mrs.  Bennett,  two  glasses  half  filled  with  wa 
ter,  please.     There,"  as  Mrs.  Bennett  returned.  "Now 
I  think  we  are  ready." 

And  so  began  the  long  vigil  at  the  bedside  of  the 
stricken  child.  Hours  came  and  went,  but  the  young 
doctor  would  not  leave  his  post.  Had  Stanley  been  a 
praying  man,  he  would  have  prayed.  As  it  was,  he 
knew  of  no  strength  on  which  to  lean  but  his  own,  and 
in  this  hour  it  seemed  fearfully  deficient.  After  a 
while  he  induced  the  young  mother  to  lie  down  while 
he  battled  on. 

"We  will  need  your  strength  to-morrow,"  he  said, 
when  she  hesitated. 

Once  during  the  night,  while  the  mother  slept  fit- 
fully, Stanley  entered  the  kitchen  to  procure  a  neces- 
sary mixing  vessel  and  made  the  discovery  that  the 
larder  was  empty.  He  knew  that  the  little  mother  and 
Joey  had  had  no  supper  that  night.  Why,  oh,  why,  he 
pondered,  was  there  so  much  inequality  in  the  world? 
Why  should  this  little  mother  be  denied  the  necessi- 
ties of  life  for  herself  and  children  when  many  of 
the  women  he  knew  squandered  fabulous  amounts  on 
frivolities.  Stanley  also  knew  that  to  the  sensitive  na- 
ture  of  the   mistress   of   this   destitute  home   charity 


A  BATTLE  WITH  DEATH  69 

would  be  felt  to  be  degrading.  He  quietly  slipped  one 
silver  dollar  into  a  dish  in  a  cupboard  and  once  more 
turned  his  attention  to  the  child. 

By  this  time  exhaustion  had  so  far  deepened  the 
sleep  of  the  poor  tired  mother  that  she  did  not  hear  the 
patter  of  bare  feet  on  the  floor  of  the  cabin,  nor  see  the 
anxiety  in  the  eyes  of  little  Joey  as  he  stole  quietly 
to  the  doctor's  side. 

''You  should  be  in  bed  and  asleep,  sonny,"  Stanley 
said. 

But  the  child  was  not  to  be  put  off. 

''Doctor,  why  don't  my  papa  come  home?  Don't  he 
know  baby  Mary  is  sick?  Mamma  cried  and  cried  to- 
night.    Why  don't  he  come?" 

"Perhaps  he  will  come  in  the  morning.  Perhaps  he 
couldn't  get  home  last  night,"  Stanley  said  soothingly. 

"Well,  will  his  eyes  look  like  this?"  The  child's 
eyes  were  fixed  in  a  glassy  stare.  "And  will  mamma 
be  afraid?  And  won't  there  be  any  money  to  buy 
bread?" 

Stanley's  arm  stole  around  the  boy.  The  curly  head 
was  pulled  over  on  his  shoulder. 

"Those  questions  are  entirely  too  big  for  a  little 
head  like  yours  to  worry  over,"  he  said.  "Yes;  I 
think  there  will  be  money  to  buy  bread.  Now  go  to 
sleep  and  don't  worry  any  more  about  it  to-night.  I 
think  it  will  be  all  right." 

The  little  lad  crept  back  to  his  bed  reassured.  Those 
small  childish  shoulders,  already  carrying  entirely  too 
much  of  this  world's  burden,  felt  that  in  some  manner 
the  load  had  been  lifted;  that  the  dark-haired  doctor 


70  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

would  see  that  it  all  came  out  ri^ht.  With  mind  once 
more  at  rest  he  fell  asleep,  but  Stanley  felt  that  the 
mystery  of.  the  wom^n  was  explained ;  knew,  now,  why 
and  by  what  means  she  had  been  dragged  from  her 
rightful  station  to  spend  her  days  in  hopeless  poverty. 

For  the  next  hour  Stanley  worked  on  unmolested. 
Once  he  was  rewarded  by  seeming  consciousness  on  the 
part  of  the  child,  but  it  was  only  for  a  moment.  The 
old  stupor  returned.    Still  he  fought  on  doggedly. 

''I  must  win.  I  must!"  he  murmured.  In  his  mind 
he  could  still  see  the  trust  in  the  mother's  great  dark 
eyes,  and  in  fancy  could  seem  to  see  that  look  give  way 
to  fear  and  be  shortly  followed  by  despair.  The  task 
seemed  hopeless.  His  knowledge  and  experience  told 
him  that  effort  on  his  part  was  useless,  that  it  was 
only  a  matter  of  hours  until  death  should  come,  and  he 
knew  that  when  life  left,  the  greatest  comfort  and 
source  of  strength  would  be  taken  from  the  life  of 
the  woman. 

Bearing  his  burden  of  responsibility,  heavier  because 
he  knew  of  no  God  on  whom  to  rely,  he  walked  slowly 
the  length  of  the  room  and  leaned  heavily  against  the 
mantel.  It  was  quite  evident  that  he  was  battling  in 
his  own  mind  over  his  course  of  procedure.  He  seemed 
to  have  reached  no  definite  conclusion  when  a  moment 
later  he  again  returned  to  the  child  and  lifted  the  little 
hand  from  its  resting  place  on  the  coverlet.  Uncon- 
sciously his  trained  fingers  sought  the  pulse  and  his 
face  whitened  perceptibly.  Whatever  he  had  learned, 
it  was  evidently  not  encouraging. 

*'I  had  just  as  well  do  it,"  he  whispered.  ''There's 
no  other  chance." 


A  BATTLE  WITH  DEATH  71 

Swiftly  his  hands  flew  over  the  little  vials  in  his 
case.  Without  hesitation  he  seized  one  of  them,  and  as 
swiftly  lifted  a  tiny  instrument  from  another  section. 
It  was  done  in  a  moment.  The  child  scarcely  moved 
when  the  injection  was  made,  and  Stanley  stepped  back 
to  watch  for  results.  He  knew  that  in  fifteen  minutes 
he  would  call  the  mother  to  see  her  dying  child,  or 
that  he  would  give  her  hope.  His  eyes  sought  the 
clock  on  the  mantel  and  then  once  more  returned  to 
the  face  of  the  child  from  which  they  did  not  wander 
again  as  the  moments,  not  slowly  now,  glided  by.  Five 
minutes  passed.  No  change.  He  had  expected  none. 
Ten  minutes.  Stanley  leaned  forward  that  he  might 
not  fail  to  see  the  slightest  change.  Eleven.  He  moved 
the  lamp  until  its  rays  fell  directly  on  the  child's  face. 
Twelve.  He  lifted  the  hand  once  more  and  let  his 
fingers  lie  on  the  pulse.  The  heart  had  almost  stopped 
beating.  Thirteen.  The  muscles  of  his  own  face  had 
become  rigid,  and  in  his  eyes  hopelessness  seemed  bat- 
tling for  a  place. 

''Oh,  if  it  should  fail!"  he  muttered.  Fourteen. 
Stanley  leaned  forward  suddenly,  a  gleam  of  hope  re- 
lieving the  rigidness  of  his  expression.  It  had  only 
been  the  tiniest  flutter  of  the  pulse,  yet  it  had  been  the 
sign  for  which  he  had  waited.  Slowly  that  minute 
passed,  but  with  its  passing  hope  had  grown  into  assur- 
ance. Stanley  leaned  back  in  his  chair,  a  gleam  of 
triumph  in  his  eyes. 

''Thank  God!"  he  ejaculated  under  his  breath,  but 
did  not  know  what  he  said. 


CHAPTER   9 
A  DOUBLE  BURDEN  BORNE  ALONE 

STANLEY  watched  carefully  but  no  longer  anx- 
iously as  one  by  one  other  evidences  of  his  tri- 
umph came  to  him.  Then  he  stepped  across  the 
room  and  laid  his  hand  on  the  shoulder  of  the  sleeping 
mother.  She  sprang  up  quickly,  fear  written  upon 
every  line  of  her  face.  When  she  saw  the  look  in  his 
eyes  her  own  gladdened  questioningly. 

*'Yes/'  he  answered  her  unspoken  question,  ''your 
child  will  live."  , 

*'0h!"  she  murmured,  her.  voice  breaking  in  a  sob. 
''How  can  I  ever  thank  you  for  what  you  have  done. 
I  can  only  hop-e  that  the  God  of  heaven  may  bring  to 
you  his  choicest  blessings.  Oh,  baby,  baby!  Mother 
is  so  glad;  so  glad." 

There  was  no  keeping  them  back.  The  tears  would 
come.  She  sank  once  more  on  her  knees  by  the  side  of 
the  bed  and  sobbed  out  her  relief.  Stanley,  who  was 
contending  with  a  strange  lump  in  his  throat,  walked 
to  the  window,  and  lifting  the  white  muslin  curtain, 
gazed  out  into  the  night.  What  was  that  lying  on  the 
walk?  Surely  he  saw  the  thing  move.  Then  he  knew. 
It  was  a  man — a  drunken  man  who  had  fallen  and  was 
trying  vainly  to  regain  his  feet.  Ah !  he  had  succeeded, 
and  staggering  forward  one  or  two  steps,  fell  heavily 
against  the  door  of  the  cabin. 

"Oh!" 


A  DOUBLE  BURDEN  73 

Stanley  turned  as  the  smothered  cry  of  fear  fell  on 
his  ears.  Mrs.  Bennett  was  standing  in  the  center  of 
the  floor,  wide-eyed  and  frightened. 

* ' Oh ! "  she  said.    ' ' It 's  John !    What  shall  we  do ?' ' 

'^I  think  from  the  looks  of  things  we  had  better  get 
him  into  the  house  and  into  bed,"  Stanley  said.  "Shall 
I  open  the  door?" 

''Of  course,"  she  said.  ''I  think  I  had  forgotten 
you  were  here.  You  can  never  know  what  it  means, 
this  watching  for  him  to  come  home  and  knowing  he 
will  come  like  that.  Sometimes  I  think  I  can  never 
live  through  it. ' ' 

''Are  you  in  danger  when  he  is  like  that?  Is  he  ever 
violent?"  Stanley  asked. 

"Not  often,"  she  returned.  But  Stanley  knew  from 
the  hesitation  with  which  she  replied  that  her  burden 
of  dread  was  greater  that  she  had  cared  to  tell  him. 

He  pulled  the  door  open  carefully,  and  into  the  room 
tumbled  what  might  have  been  a  man.  Stanley  wa^ 
only  conscious  that  a  pair  of  bleared  eyes  glared  out  at 
him  from  puffy,  swollen  cheeks.  A  stiff  hat  was  mashed 
down  on  his  head  almost  to  his  ears.  His  coat  was  torn 
and  dirty.  His  shoes  were  almost  off  his  feet.  A  feel- 
ing of  repulsion  swept  over  Stanley  as  he  realized  that 
this  man  was  the  husband  of  the  woman  at  his  side 
and  the  father  of  little  Joey.  Oh,  the  awful  inconsist- 
encies of  this  world"! 

The  man,  or  rather  animal,  fo"r  he  had  sunken  to  that 
level,  did  not  attempt  to  rise,  but  continued  to  glare  at 
Stanley.  He  turned  his  eyes  to  his  wife  accusiiigly  and 
brought  them  once  more  to  Stanley's  face.    That  young 


74  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

man  felt  his  blood  boil  and  an  insane  desire  to  kick 
the  man  at  his  feet. 

''What  are  you  doing  in  my  house?"  the  wretch 
demanded  of  Stanley. 

*'0h,  John!"  the  reproach  in  the  woman's  voice  was 
painful.  ''It's  the  doctor  who  came  to  see  baby  Mary. 
Baby  Mary  is  awfully  sick.  The  doctor  has  been  with 
us  all  night." 

"B'g  pardon,  sir,"  John  Bennett  said  thickly,  as  he 
tried  in  vain  to  regain  his  feet.  "N-no  offense  meant. 
0-only  wanted  to  know." 

Stanley  could  scarcely  understand  the  words,  the 
tongue  which  tried  to  utter  them  being  almost  para- 
lyzed with  the  effect  of  liquor.  Tie  stooped  and  as- 
sisted the  man  to  stand,  by  no  means  an  easy  task. 
John  Bennett  tried  to  continue  the  conversation. 

"Do  all  y'  can  for  the  baby.  Think  I'll  go  to  bed 
m'self." 

But  Stanley  set  him  down  in  a  chair  near  by,  hand- 
ling him  in  much  the  manner  that  a  schoolmaster 
would  a  naughty  boy. 

"I  think  I  had  better  fix  you  up  a  bit,"  he  said,  as 
he  mixed  a  glass  of  medicine  and  held  it  to  the  drunken 
man's  lips.  It  was  swallowed  greedily,  and  as  Stanley 
turned  to  set  aside  the  glass  he  had  used,  John  Bennett 
arose  and  threw  himself  on  the  bed.  Mrs.  Bennett 
gasped  as  the  soiled  clothing  came  in  contact  with  the 
clean  white  coverlet. 

"I  had  intended  to  undress  him,"  Stanley  said,  as 
he  regarded  the  wretch  before  him,  "but  perhaps  it  is 


A  DOUBLE  BURDEN  75 

just  as  well.  He  will  sleep  for  hours  and  will  be  sober 
when  he  does  awake." 

The  woman  did  not  answer.  She  leaned  against  the 
window,  gazing  blindly  into  the  darkness.  She  was 
not  crying,  yet  great,  dry  sobs  shook  her  frame.  Deli- 
cate, almost  fragile  she  was,  yet  the  very  weight  of 
the  world  seemed  to  lie  on  those  shapely  shoulders. 
Stanley's  heart  ached  for  her.  All  he  could  do  to  help 
seemed  so  unavailing.  He  drew  her  from  the  window 
and  with  gentle  touch  made  her  comfortable  in  the 
chair  so  lately  occupied  by  her  husband,  and  also  held 
a  soothing  potion  to  her  lips.  Poor  tired  nerves,  trem- 
bling with  the  weight  of  another's  sin! 

''Drink  this,  please,  Mrs.  Bennett,"  he  begged.  ''It 
will  do  you  good,  I'm  sure." 

She  tried  to  swallow  the  contents  of  the  cup  obedi- 
ently, but  the  anguish  of  her  heart  seemed  to  reflect 
in  the  muscles  of  her  throat  and  she  almost  choked. 
However,  a  moment  later  a  pair  of  dark  eyes  met  his 
own  bravely. 

"We  must  all  bear  our  burdens,  must  we  not?"  she 
asked,  smiling. 

Stanley  knew  that  smile,  knew  it  ti  be  the  bravest 
thing  in  all  the  world.  He  could  almost  see  the  slight 
shoulders  square  themselves  to  carry  their  enormous 
burden,  and  knew  that  inasmuch  as  it  were  possible, 
that  burden  would  be  carried  alone.  Without  once 
more  referring  to  the  drunkard  w^ho  slept  so  near  them, 
already  filling  the  room  with  the  stench  of  his  foul 
breathing,  she  turned  to  the  bed  where  the  sick  child 
lay. 


76  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

'*I  can  see  she  has  improved/*  she  said,  laying  her 
hand  lovingly  on  the  mass  of  brown  curls.  ''Oh,  I 
prayed  that  the  Lord  would  let  her  live  until  you 
came.  I  just  felt  that  if  she  were  alive  when  you 
came  you  would  be  able  to  save  her." 

Stanley's  eyes  rested  on  the  woman  beside  him  ques- 
tioningly.  The  words,  ''I  prayed  that  the  Lord  would 
let  her  live  until  you  came,"  seemed  burned  into  his 
brain.  Everywhere,  he  reflected,  he  seemed  to  be  con- 
fronted with  one  thought — the  existence  of  God  and  his 
interest  in  the  everyday  affairs  of  life.  No,  it  could 
not  be  possible.  Even  if  such  a  great  powerful  being 
did  exist  among  all  the  atoms  of  life,  could  the  cries 
and  sorrows  of  one  like  the  little  mistress  of  this  home, 
or  the  unconscious  child  with  whom  he  had  been  work- 
ing, be  considered  of  sufficient  importance  to  warrant 
the  answering  of  such  a  prayer?  Surely  not.  If  such 
a  being  did  exist,  he  would  be  too  great  to  notice  the 
little  things  of  life.  Yet — ^the  face  of  Alfred  Stewart 
suddenly  came  before  him  and  he  seemed  again  to  hear 
the  words:  "Don't  worry  about  it.  Some  day  that 
question  will  settle  itself  and  you  will  know  there  is  a 
God."  In  his  heart  he  wished  the  time  had  come, 
wished  the  question  were  settled. 

''Don't  you  think,  doctor,"  Mrs.  Bennett  said,  "that 
you  could  leave  instructions  with  me  now,  and  get 
some  rest?    You  have  had  a  trying  night." 

So  it  was  arranged.  Stanley  paused  in  the  doorway 
to  give  her  some  final  instructions. 

"You  will  need  to  watch  her  very,  very  closely,"  he 
said.    "Do  not  leave  her  bedside  unless  it  is  absolutely 


A  DOUBLE  BURDEN  77 

necessary.  1  will  have  your  breakfast  sent  in.  It  might 
be  dangerous  for  you  to  leave  her  to  prepare  the  meal 
yourself." 

This  was  said  in  such  a  matter-of-fact  tone  that  no 
suspicions  were  raised  in  the  mind  of  the  woman.  She 
did  not  guess  that  he  knew  that  a  preparation  of  the 
meal  would  be  impossible. 

'^ Thank  you,  doctor,"  was  all  she  said,  and  he  was 
gone,  leaving  her  alone  once  more  with  the  problems 
of  her  life. 

She  arose  again  and  walked  to  the  window,  looking 
out  into  the  shadows  which  had  begun  to  lighten  with 
the  first  faint  promise  of  approaching  day.  She  could 
see  just  the  dim  outlines  of  the  trees  which  fringed  the 
lake.  The  peace  and  quiet  of  the  night  lay  like  a  bene- 
diction over  the  forest.  From  afar  came  the  call  of 
some  lord  of  the  barnyard,  announcing  to  his  feathered 
companions  that  the  day  was  near  at  hand.  From 
farther  still,  mellowed  by  the  distance,  his  call  was 
answered  by  another  of  his  kind.  Then  all  was  still. 
The  world  seemed  at  rest,  and  something  of  the  peace 
of  it  seemed  to  steal  into  the  mother's  heart,  as  she 
took  up  once  more  her  vigil  at  the  bedside  of  her  child. 
Did  she  feel  that  as  the  light  of  a  new  day  chased  away 
the  shadows  of  a  deep,  dark  night,  so  would  a  new  sun 
arise  in  her  own  life  to  dispel  the  shadows  of  the  great 
black  night  through  which  she  had  scarcely  been  able 
to  live?  I  do  not  think  so.  Yet  something  of  the  as- 
surance with  which  night  yields  to  the  coming  day  gave 
her  an  indescribable  comfort,  a  feeling  that  although 
the  brightness  of  our  lives  may  at  times  be  obscured, 


78  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

life  cannot  be  all  night.  Sunshine  and  Shadow  must 
combine,  that  life  and  the  forming  of  character  may 
be  whole  and  complete,  wanting  nothing. 


CHAPTER  10 
STANLEY  SENDS  IN  A  BREAKFAST 

STANLEY  did  not  ride  home  immediately  upon  leav- 
ing the  Bennett  house,  with  its  burden  of  debauch- 
ery and  its  threat  of  death.  The  stench  of  whisky- 
laden  breath,  combined  with  the  odor  of  fever,  was  in 
his  nostrils.  Spider  picked  her  way  cautiously  among 
the  trees  to  the  highway  where  Stanley  headed  for  the 
open  country.  It  was  still  quite  dark,  but  the  early 
morning  air  seemed  charged  with  vitality,  and  the  man 
inhaled  it  deeply  and  gratefully.  He  felt  that  he  would 
like  to  ride — ride  far  and  forget — forget  the  death 
which  invaded  that  home,  not  the  physical  death  with 
which  he  had  battled,  but  the  greater  living  death  which 
seemed  more  terrible  because  he  could  not  fight  it. 

He  galloped  on  to  where  the  road  touched  the  edge 
of  the  lake,  then,  turning  at  right  angles,  headed  to- 
ward the  hills.  He  had  no  definite  goal  in  view,  only 
a  desire  to  once  more  adjust  himself  mentally  to  the 
world. 

Day  was  near  at  hand.  The  sky  in  the  east  had  taken 
on  a  lighter  hue  and  the  trees  of  the  forest  were  plainly 
visible.  Stanley  could  hear  the  chirp  of  the  birds 
among  the  branches  as  they  bestirred  themselves  into 
action.  But  his  thoughts  were  not  with  these.  The 
picture  of  the  lonely  little  mother  in  the  scantily  fur- 
nished cabin  oppressed  him.  Had  she  been  a  widow 


80  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

with  even  the  memory  of  a  faithful  husband  to  help 
her,  it  would  not  have  seemed  so  bad.  But  this — this 
worse  than  death,  which  in  his  mind  seemed  to  stretch 
on  throughout  all  the  years  before  her  and  from  which 
there  seemed  no  relief !  He  could  see  again  the  slight, 
almost  girlish  shoulders  square  themselves  to  carry 
their  burden,  and  he  knew  they  would  never  shirk; 
knew  that  she  would  grow  old,  old  before  her  time,  ana 
finally  when  physically  she  was  able  to  bear  no  more, 
she  would  die,  and  death  would  be  a  blessing.  Death — 
what  then?  In  his  own  mind  he  had  always  said  ob- 
livion. Mechanically  he  turned  his  horse's  head  once 
more,  following  a  less  used  but  well-defined  road  lead- 
ing directly  into  the  forest.  Oblivion — well,  oblivion 
would  be  better  than  such  a  life,  but  somehow  it  did 
not  seem  satisfactory.  How  dreadful  it  is,  he  thought, 
that  if  this  life  is  all,  it  should  be  so  wasted. 

By  this  time  Stanley  had  passed  under  the  first  arch 
of  the  trees  and  found  himself  in  the  denser  part  of  the 
forest.  The  trees  lining  the  narrow  roadway  reached 
forth  friendly  branches  to  each  other,  forming  a  per- 
fect canopy  of  leaves  above  him.  From  among  the 
shadows  on  each  side  he  could  catch  glimpses  of  moss- 
beds  from  which  tiny  flowers  peeped  cautiously.  The 
cool  fragrance  of  growing  things  filled  the  atmosphere 
with  their  own  vitality,  and  Spider  lifting  her  head  in 
appreciation,  quickened  her  pace. 

Contradicting  his  line  of  thought,  Stanley  found 
himself  repeating  the  words  of  Prentice:  ''It  cannot 
be  that  our  life  is  a  mere  bubble  cast  up  by  eternity 
to  float  a  moment  on  its  waves  and  then  sink  into 


STANLEY  SENDS  IN  A  BREAKFAST  81 

nothingness.  Else  why  is  it  that  the  glorious  aspira- 
tions which  leap  like  angels  from  the  temples  of  our 
hearts  are  forever  unsatisfied?" 

''He  is  right  about  the  unsatisfactory  part,"  Stanley 
thought.  "Life  at  its  best  is  just  about  an  even  mix- 
ture of  sorrow  and  happiness,  and  at  its  worst — 
Whew!"  From  sudden  energy  of  thought  Stanley  cut 
the  head  from  a  wayside  flower  with  his  riding  whip :  a 
shower  of  dewdrops  was  the  result.  ' '  Well,  if  this  life 
is  all,  it's  hell  for  some  people  sure,  and  it  doesn't  seem 
fair,  either,  when  it's  not  their  fault.  Now  if,  as  they 
try  to  tell  us  in  church,  there  could  be  another  life 
where  it  could  all  be  fixed  up,  it  would  be  fine.  It 
does  sound  like  a  fairy  tale,  but  it  would  be  fine." 

Reaching  up,  Stanley  pulled  a  leaf  from  the  branch 
of  a  tree  which  stretched  out  over  his  head.  ''Of 
course,"  he  thought,  "religion  is  founded  on  the 
theory  that  there  is  a  spirit  in  man  which  is  severed 
from  the  body  at  death,  but  which  must  live  through- 
out eternity." 

Stanley  had  never  believed  that  theory,  at  least  had 
never  convinced  himself  of  its  truthfulness.  "It's  a 
fine  theory,"  he  continued  in  thought,  "but  I  can't 
make  it  work  out.  What  do  you  think  about  it.  Spider? 
If  a  man  has  a  spirit,  why  haven't  you?  Why  is  it 
reasonable  to  believe  that  I  have  a  spirit  and  that  you 
haven't?  You  have  as  much  life  as  I  have.  I  wish  I 
knew.    I  certainly  wish  I  knew." 

Over  Stanley's  face  there  passed  the  sudden  wistful 
look  which  always  came  when  he  thought  on  this  sub- 
ject.    In  his  mind  he  could  hear  once  more  Alfred 


82  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

Stewart's  voice  as  he  said:  ''In  my  Father's  house  are 
many  mansions."  What  a  comfort  it  would  be  to  be- 
lieve.   What  a  comfort! 

Spider,  cantering  easily  among  the  trees,  suddenly 
emerged  from  the  forest  where  the  road  dipped  and 
crossed  Turkey  Creek,  just  below  the  barn  at  Stanley's 
home.  She  stepped  daintily  to  the  edge  and  lowered 
her  head  to  drink  of  its  waters  before  she  attempted 
to  cross  the  ford.  Stanley  patted  her  neck  affection- 
ately as  he  leaned  forward  to  loosen  her  rein. 

The  night  had  slipped  away.  The  sun  was  up  when 
he  alighted  wearily  from  his  horse  in  the  barnyard. 
Bill  Lakeman  had  seen  him  coming  and  came  to  meet 
him  with  concern  written  plainly  upon  every  feature 
of  his  kindly  face.  He  did  not  need  to  ask  the  question. 
His  son  knew  what  he  wanted  to  know. 

"I  can't  say,  yet,  father.  The  child  is  dreadfully  ill, 
but  I  think  the  greatest  danger  is  past." 

When  Spider  was  made  comfortable  in  her  stall 
Stanley  walked  beside  his  father  to  the  house.  His 
shoulders,  usually  carried  erect,  stooped  slightly  with 
the  weight  of  the  burden  of  others. 

''Well,  boy,"  Bill  Lakeman  said  soothingly,  "you 
have  done  your  best,  so  don't  worry.  Life  is  short  at 
best,  and  as  it  passes  it  teaches  us  some  things.  Among 
the  things  I  have  tried  to  learn  is  to  do  what  is  right 
so  far  as  I  am  concerned  and  not  to  worry  over  the 
things  which  are  too  big  for  me." 

"Yes,  I  know,  father,"  his  son  returned,  "but  that 
is  not  the  worst  of  this  case.  If  it  were  only  a  case  of 
the  sickness  of  the  child,  it  would  be  like  many  other 


STANLEY  SENDS  IN  A  BREAKFAST  83 

such  cases  which  we  must  expect  to  handle."  Then  he 
told  his  father  of  the  brave  little  mother,  of  his  midnight 
conversation  with  little  Joey,  the  homecoming  of  the 
brute  of  a  husband,  the  young  wife's  fear,  and  later 
her  splendid  courage ;  of  how  he  had  found  that  there 
was  nothing  to  eat  in  the  house. 

Bill  Lakeman  listened  attentively,  sympathetically, 
as  the  narrative  continued.  "It's  a  burning  shame," 
he  said;  ''a  burning  shame.  But  you  have  done  your 
part,  boy,  and  good  will  come  of  it.  Of  course  there 
is  more  to  do  yet,  but  you  have  done  all  you  could  do 
for  the  present.  Remember  this :  you  are  not  respon- 
sible for  the  evil  there  is  in  the  world.  Do  all  you  can 
to  eliminate  it;  beyond  that  don't  worry.  Now  have 
Sophronia  give  you  something  to  eat  and  get  to  bed  for 
some  rest.  I'll  see  that  you  are  called  whenever  you 
want  to  get  up.  And,  boy,  rest  easier  with  this  thought : 
you  are  not  responsible  for  the  evil,  but  will  do  all  in 
your  power  to  allay  suffering." 

Stanley  thanked  his  father  with  a  glance  as  he 
stepped  through  the  cottage  door  into  the  kitchen.  "I 
told  her,"  he  continued  the  conversation,  speaking  to 
his  father,  "that  I  did  not  want  her  to  leave  the  child 
to  prepare  breakfast  and  that  I  would  have  Aunt 
Sophronia  take  their  breakfast  to  them." 

Aunt  Sophronia,  who  had  also  seen  Stanley  as  he 
came,  was  already  arranging  a  dainty  meal  on  the 
table  for  him.  She  looked  up  immediately,  interested  as 
she  heard  Stanley's  remark.  Bill  Lakeman  conveyed  to 
her  in  very  few  words  the  need  Stanley  had  just  out- 
lined to  him. 


84  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

''We'll  just  make  them  think  we  eat  powerfully  big 
breakfasts  up  here,  eh,  Sophronia  ?  You  sit  right  down, 
boy,  and  eat  your  own  breakfast.  Sophronia  and  I 
will  attend  to  this." 

Aunt  Sophronia  had  seemed  to  anticipate  the  young 
doctor's  needs.*  The  breakfast  she  placed  before  him 
was  appetizing  and  restful.  Stanley  laughed  as  he 
viewed  a  great  plate  of  steaming  cream  toast.  ' '  I  think 
that  is  literally  true,  father.  Look  at  this  plate. 
Enough  for  three  men." 

Aunt  Sophronia  only  smiled.  She  well  knew  that, 
according  to  his  own  estimate,  much  more  than  one 
man's  share  would  disappear  before  he  left  the  table. 

''Where's  Stewart?"  Stanley  asked,  as  he  removed 
the  contents  of  a  coddled  egg  from  its  shell.  "In  bed 
yet?" 

"No,"  his  father  answered.  "He  wanted  to  try 
walking,  so  he  is  out  for  a  little  exercise.  He  probably 
will  not  go  far.  Those  crutches  do  not  make  walking 
easy." 

"I  thought  for  a  while  last  night,"  Stanley  said, 
"that  he  would  be  needed  more  on  my  case  than  I 
myself. ' ' 

"I  have  always  said,"  Bill  Lakeman  returned,  "that 
when  I  died  I  did  not  want  any  hypocritical  preacher 
saying  any  words  over  my  grave,  but  I  wouldn't  mind 
a  few  words  from  a  chap  like  Stewart.  He  means 
wihat  he  says  at  any  rate." 

"Yes,"  his  son  answered.  "I  can  imagine  him  being 
quite  eloquent,  too." 

"Any  really  sincere  man  will  probably  be  eloquent. 


STANLEY  SENDS  IN  A  BREAKFAST  85 

Sincerity  is  the  foundation  upon  which  all  true  elo- 
quence must  be  based,"  Bill  Lakeman  returned  with 
emphasis.  ''There  is  in  the  world  that  which  is  some- 
times mistaken  for  eloquence,  but  it  is  empty.  It  is 
like  some  copies  I  have  seen  of  masterpieces  in  paint- 
ing.   It  lacks  all  that  makes  it  worth  while." 

Aunt  Sophronia  had  brought  from  the  pantry  a 
large  market  basket  in  which  she  had  already  spread 
a  snowy  cloth  as  a  preface  for  what  was  to  follow. 
Stanley  watched  her  approvingly  as  he  saw  a  bottle 
of  rich,  sweet  milk  follow  a  big,  fluffy  loaf  of  white 
bread,  several  slices  of  home-cured  ham,  a  cake  of  but- 
ter, and  a  bag  of  coffee.  Evidently  not  satisfied,  the 
good  old  lady  disappeared  once  more  within  the  pantry. 
Stanley  choked  back  a  laugh,  which  came  near  being 
fatal  to  a  cup  of  coffee  he  held  to  his  lips,  for  no  sooner 
was  his  aunt's  back  turned  than  he  saw  his  father 
surreptitiously  lift  the  cover  and  slip  in  a  glass  of  his 
own  favorite  jelly.  Stanley  knew  that  particular 
brand  of  jelly  was  scarce  and  that  the  giving  of  one 
of  the  few  remaining  glasses  meant  a  real  sacrifice  to 
his  father.  He  also  knew  that  had  Aunt  Sophronia 
known  she  would  have  substituted  another  in  its  stead. 
So  he  kept  his  own  counsel  as  his  aunt  continued  to  put 
into  the  basket  delicacy  after  delicacy  of  which  only 
she  could  have  thought. 

A  few  moments  later  Bill  Lakeman  had  horse  and 
buggy  waiting  for  her  to  start  on  her  errand.  He 
nodded  approvingly  as  he  saw  the  evident  pleasure 
with  which  she  went.  As  he  turned  to  enter  the  house 
once  more  he  met  Alfred  coming  up  the  path  on  his 
return  from  his  morning  walk. 


86  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING* 

''Well,  sir,"  Bill  Lakeman  greeted  him,  ''how  do 
those  crutches  behave?  A  bit  awkward,  are  they?  It 
takes  practice  to  do  anything  in  this  world,  even  to 
walk  with  crutches.  A  good  pair  of  legs  is  better. 
Yes ;  they  are  better. 

' '  I  remember  once  when  I  was  a  youngster, ' '  he  went 
on,  laughing,  "I  had  an  ambition  to  walk  on  crutches, 
so  I  stole  out  a  pair  my  father  had  and  tried  them.  The 
result  was  that  I  slipped  and  fell  and  then  had  to  use 
them  in  real  earnest.  It  ceased  to  be  fun  immediately. 
The  next  day  I  cried  because  my  mother  made  me  use 
them.  Yes,"  he  went  on  quietly,  "my  viewpoint 
seemed  to  have  changed.    It  seemed  to  have  changed." 

Reaching  up  he  pulled  a  bunch  of  clematis  bloom 
which  hung  above  their  path.  "How  did  you  enjoy 
your  walk?"  he  added. 

"Splendidly,  sir,  splendidly,"  Alfred  answered.  "I 
walked  down  to  that  old  tree  with  its  branches  stretched 
over  the  creek.  I'm  afraid  I  am  not  really  grown  up. 
I  sat  there  and  listened  to  the  water  running  over  the 
rocks  and  imagined  they  wer,e  saying  many  things. 
What  do  you  think  I  found  there?"  He  held  up  a 
flower  of  peculiar  model.  "A  lady's-slipper — the  first  I 
have  seen  for  years." 

"They  are  rare,"  Bill  Lakeman  said.  "Two  or  three 
during  the  summer  are  all  we  ever  see.  Just  across  the 
creek  on  that  hill,  up  among  the  trees,  is  a  great  bed  of 
bluebells ;  around  that  little  knoll  to  the  right  the  hill 
is  covered  with  daisies.  Just  cross  the  meadow  there 
is  a  bed  of  yellow  pansies.  I  suppose  I  should  plow 
them  up  and  use  the  land,  but  the  old  place  would 
scarcely  seem  the  same  without  them." 


STANLEY  SENDS  IN  A  BREAKFAST  87 

By  the  time  they  had  reached  the  kitchen  door  Stan- 
ley had  risen  from  the  table.  His  eyes  brightened  as 
they  rested  on  Alfred  Stewart.  *'How  does  the  foot 
feel?"  he  asked  in  greeting. 

"I  haven't  tried  but  I  think  I  could  almost  walk 
on  it,"  Alfred  returned. 

*^ Indeed  you  could  not,"  Stanley  said  with  mock 
severity.  ''I  don't  want  to  hear  of  your  trying  it, 
either." 

''Remember,  father,"  he  said  as  he  left  them,  "don't 
let  me  sleep  .too  long.  I  must  get  back  to  the 
Bennett  child  this  afternoon.  Besides,  I  must  call  on 
Mrs.  Wenegar  to-day."    This  with  a  wry  face. 

Bill  Lakeman  laughed  heartily.  ''Mrs.  Wenegar," 
he  volunteered  the  information  to  Alfred,  "is  a  would- 
be  invalid.  She  seems  to  think  that  the  best  way  to 
break  into  the  inner  circles  of  society  is  by  the  way  of 
the  surgeon's  knife.  She  is  one  of  Stanley's  best  pay- 
ing patients,  but  I  think  he  will  lose  her  unless  he  per- 
forms some  kind  of  an  operation.  He  says  he'll  never 
do  it.  Besides,  he  knows  full  well  that  if  there  were 
something  really  wrong  with  her  and  he  should  effect 
a  cui:e,  she  would  never  forgive  him.  She  would  lose 
her  only  topic  of  conversation.  It  takes  all  kinds  of 
people  to  make  a  world,  and  I  am  inclined  to  think 
that  a  physician  just  about  runs  into  all  of  them." 

"Yes,"  Alfred  said,  "and  I  think  a  preacher  comes 
in  contact  with  a  few  various  specimens  also." 

"I  guess  you  are  right,"  Bill  Lakeman  laughed  back. 
"However,  it  has  always  been  one  of  my  pet  theories 
that  preachers  themselves  contribute  very  largely  to 
that  same  irregularity." 


88  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

It  was  now  Alfred's  turn  to  make  a  wry  face,  to  the 
great  amusement  of  Bill  Lakeman. 

"Shall  we  call  a  truce?"  Alfred  asked,  with  a  good- 
natured  sparkle  in  his  eye. 

''Perhaps  we  had  better,"  his  companion  returned. 
*'I  really  must  get  to  work  myself." 

''And  I  think  I  must  get  to  studying,"  Alfred  said. 
"Perhaps  if  I  don't  you  will  get  the  best  of  me  in  our 
study  to-night,  and  I  don't  think  I  would  like  that." 

Bill  Lakeman 's  face  became  serious.  "I  am  almost 
beginning  to  think  there  is  no  danger  of  that,"  he 
said  as  he  went  out. 

When  he  was  gone  and  Alfred  was  left  alone,  he  knelt 
before  God  and  implored  him  long  and  earnestly  to 
assist  him  in  bringing  about  the  salvation  of  souls. 


CHAPTER  11 


AS  THE  sun  once  more  declined  toward  the 
horizon,  Alfred  and  Stanley  came  upon  Aunt 
Sophronia  arranging  tables  and  chairs  beneath 
the  honeysuckle  where  Alfred  had  talked  to  them  the 
evening  before. 

''Ah,  this  will  be  fine,"  Alfred  said.  '"Twill  be  so 
much  more  pleasant  to  study  here  than  indoors." 

"Yes,"  Stanley  bantered  lightly,  "and  there  will  be 
another  big  advantage.  The  preacher  in  the  case  can't 
keep  us  too  long,  for  it  will  get  so  dark  we  can't  see  to 
read  and  he  will  have  to  quit.  I  find  all  preachers  to 
be  more  or  less  like  Dunbar's  colored  preacher 
was  at  the  spelling  match.  He  couldn't  spell  condensa- 
tion." 

Aunt  Sophronia  gave  Alfred  one  of  her  rare  smiles 
and  disappeared  into  the  house,  returning  a  moment 
later  with  a  large  lamp  in  each  hand.  She  placed  one 
on  each  table.  Stanley  threw  up  his  hands  with  a 
gesture  of  despair. 

"It's  no  use,"  he  said.  "You've  got  Aunt  Sophronia 
on  your  side. 

"Well,"  he  continued  with  mock  gravity,  "I  suppose 
I  had  better  bring  my  Bible  and  prepare  for  a  theologi- 
cal whipping." 

"I'm  afraid,"  Alfred  returned,  "that  you  will  never 


90  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

recognize  my  theology  as  theology  in  the  light  of  mod- 
ern theology." 

Stanley  groaned.  ''I'm  beginning  to  see  that  I'll 
never  be  able  to  survive  such  an  experience." 

The  young  man  disappeared  indoors  as  Bill  Lakeman 
came  around  the  corner  of  the  house  lugging  a  great 
family  Bible  that  seemed  to  be  all  he  could  carry. 

"Bill  Lakeman!"  Aunt  Sophronia  exclaimed. 
"What  are  you  bringing  that  Bible  out  here  for?  A 
body  would  think  you  was  hard  up  for  Bibles." 

"Never  you  mind,  Sophronia,"  Bill  Lakeman  an- 
swered, as  he  dropped  the  Bible  with  a  thud  on  the 
table  nearest  him.  "I  may  need  a  Bible  I  can  find 
things  in  to-night.    I  have  marked  this  one  a  wee  bit. ' ' 

Stanley  and  Alfred  emerged  once  more  from  the 
house.  Bibles  in  hand,  just  as  Jennie  Burnside  galloped 
up  to  the  gate  and  jumped  from  her  horse.  Jennie 
cast  her  eyes  approvingly  over  the  scene.  The  quiet 
peace  of  the  old  house  with  its  ivy  vines  always  filled 
her  with  a  vague  longing,  a  dreamy  realization  that  in 
her  life  there  was  something  lacking:  a  strange  some- 
thing which  the  unpretentious  cottage  seemed  to  satisfy. 
The  chairs  and  the  tables,  with  their  snow-white  cov- 
erings, now  grouped  artistically  beneath  the  honey- 
suckle, only  intensified  this  feeling,  because,  although 
she  did  not  realize  it,  they  intensified  the  atmosphere 
of  home  which  clung  to  the  place. 

"I  see  we  are  all  ready,"  she  said,  when  she  had  ex- 
changed greetings  with  those  present.  "Do  you  know 
I  have  been  in  a  perfect  fever  of  excitement  to-day? 
I  could  scarcly  wait  for  this  study  hour  to  come.  There 
is  so  much  I  really  want  to  know." 


"OPENED  HE  THE  SCRIPTURES"  91 

"  I  'm  like  Jennie, ' '  Bill  Lakeman  said.  ' '  I  am  anxious 
to  hear  more  of  this  man's  strange  doctrine.  If  he  can 
hold  out  as  well  as  he  started,  it  promises  to  be  inter- 
esting. We  are  all  here,  Mr.  Stewart ;  suppose  we  start 
in  if  you  are  ready. ' ' 

''I  am  quite  ready,"  Alfred  answered. 

He  hobbled  to  the  table  nearest  him  and  stood  for  a 
moment  by  the  side  of  a  chair.  Stanley  seated  himselr 
on  the  opposite  side  of  the  same  table.  Bill  Lakeman 
chose  a  chair  nearest  the  spot  where  he  had  deposited 
the  big  Bible.  Aunt  Sophronia  took  a  chair  across  the 
table  from  him.  eTennie,  throwing  her  riding  whip 
and  gloves  on  the  grass  behind  her,  seated  herself  in 
the  remaining  chair  beside  Aunt  Sophronia. 

When  each  had  raised  an  expectant  face  to  him,  Al- 
fred said: 

''I  do  not  feel  like  entering  upon  anything  of  this 
kind  without  first  asking  the  help  of  God.  Would  you 
mind,  Mr.  Lakeman,  if  we  should  have  prayer?" 

''No,  indeed!  Just  fire  ahead,  sir,"  Bill  Lakeman 
said,  not  irreverently.  ''I  may  not  see  where  praying 
accomplishes  anything  myself,  but  I  am  perfectly  will- 
ing to  allow  any  man  the  privilege  of  praying  if  he 
wants  to." 

Alfred  knelt  beside  his  chair,  the  others  bowing  or 
kneeling  as  they  felt  inclined.  Stanley  did  neither.  He 
watched  Alfred's  face  curiously,  studiously.  It  was 
quite  evident  that  prayer  was  a  mystery  to  him. 

The  prayer  was  short  and  earnest.  No  effort  was 
made  on  the  part  of  the  young  minister  to  impress  his 
hearers.    There  was  no  ministerial  intonation  of  voice. 


92  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

Indeed,  a  distinguishing  feature  of  the  prayer  was  its 
utter  lack  of  pretense  and  the  earnestness  with  which 
it  was  offered. 

When  the  praj^er  was  ended  Alfred  looked  into  the 
faces  of  his  newly-acquired  friends,  each  of  whom  had 
an  open  Bible  before  him. 

''Friends,"  he  said,  ''I  believe  we  have  come  together 
to-night  that  we  might  acquire  truth.  Larson  has 
said,  'The  acquirement  of  truth  is  the  highest  object 
any  man  can  have. '  I  think  if  we  truly  desire  to  know 
the  truth  we  should  open  our  minds  to  receive  truth; 
knowing  this,  that  we  cannot  judge  whether  a  thing  be 
true  or  not  until  we  have  taken  it  into  our  mind  and 
carefully  examined  it  from  all  points  of  view.  So  I 
ask  you  to  consider  carefully  whatever  may  come  be- 
fore us.  Not  too  critically,  because  a  supercritical 
mind  is  always  half  closed  to  truth;  but  logically  ex- 
amine the  thoughts  presented,  and  if  they  are  the  truth, 
they  will  be  able  to  stand  any  test  you  may  be  able  to 
bring  to  bear  upon  them. 

"I  do  not  ask  or  desire  that  you  accept  anything  I 
may  say  as  the  truth  unless  it  will  stand  the  test  of 
your  own  reason.  That  is  the  only  way  any  truth  can 
be  a  truth  to  you.  The  Lord  has  said,  'Come  now,  and 
let  us  reason  together.'  That  is  what  I  desire  for  to- 
night, that  we  reason  together. 

"The  matter  we  are  about  to  take  up  means  a  great 
deal  to  me,  more  than  anything  else  in  life.  I  believe 
it  means  a  great  deal  to  you.  Indeed  I  think  it  is  the 
most  important  question  in  the  life  of  any  man  or 
woman,  because  it  deals  with  the  question  of  ourselves 
and  our  destiny. 


"OPENED  HE  THE  SCRIPTURES"  93 

*  *  One  of  two  things  is  true :  We  are  either  nothing ; 
that  is,  after  our  fitful  little  spell  of  life  is  over  we 
sink  back  again  into  the  oblivion  from  which  we  came, 
in  which  case  the  very  life  we  possess  is  only  the  result 
of  certain  combinations  of  chemical  or  physical  ele- 
ments and  forces,  which,  spending  themselves,  are  lost 
again  in  inaction ;  or  we  are  intelligent  spiritual  beings. 

' '  If  the  former  be  true,  we  are  then  mentally  as  well 
as  physically  a  combination  of  many  distinct  parts  and 
forces.  I  do  not  believe  that,  for  from  birth  to  death 
we  never  lose  our  feeling  of  mental  unity.  The  mental 
unity  we  feel  always,  separate  and  apart  from  the 
diversified  organization  of  our  physical  bodies.  Always 
we  feel  our  identity.  One  identity,  not  many.  Bo  I 
believe  we  are  spiritual  beings,  clothed  upon  by  a 
physical  body.  If  that  be  true,  then  it  is  easy  to  be- 
lieve that  when  the  physical  body  sinks  into  inactivity 
or  death,  the  spirit  of  man  (by  that  I  mean  the  think- 
ing principle,  the  personality,  the  real  man,  that  thing 
we  refer  to  when  we  say,  '  I  put  that  thought  from-  my 
mind,^  simply  withdraws  from  that  which  through 
permanent  inaction  is  no  longer  useful  to  it,  and  re- 
turns once  more  to  its  spiritual  plane.  Now,  taking  this 
as  our  starting  point,  the  question  before  us  is,  What 
is  the  destiny  of  that  spirit  ?  What  are  its  experiences 
after  leaving  this  life,  and  what  did  the  mission  of 
Christ  accomplish  for  it  ?  You  will  notice  that  that  is  a 
continuation  of  the  subject  we  had  under  consideration 
last  night.'' 

Alfred  paused  and  began  turning  the  leaves  of  his 
Bible.  Stanley  looked  at  him  thoughtfully  a  moment, 
then  said: 


94  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

"Before  you  go  further,  I  want  to  ask  you  a  ques- 
tion. Am  I  to  understand  you  to  mean  that  the  thing 
which  you  term  spirit  is  something  separate  and  dis- 
tinct from  the  mind  of  man?" 

''Not  that,  exactly,"  Alfred  answered.  ''However, 
I  think  we  have  a  tendency  to  confuse  the  brain  and 
its  action  with  the  mind.  In  my  estimation  mind  and 
spirit  are  the  same  thing.  But  the  action  of  the  brain 
may  be  quite  another." 

"Then  you  do  not  think  that  the  brain  creates 
thought  and  the  sum  total  of  our  thoughts  is  our 
mind?" 

"No,"  Alfred  answered,  "I  do  not.  The  brain  is  no 
more  capable  of  creating  thought  than  an  organ  is  of 
creating  music.  The  brain  can  be  acted  upon  or  can 
transfer  intelligence  to  the  mind,  but  is  not  capable  of 
creating  that  which  is  greater  than  itself — the  mind." 

Stanley  looked  doubtfully  up  at  the  flowers  hanging 
in  a  cluster  above  his  head.  "I  don't  just  know  what 
some  of  the  teachers  in  the  medical  schools  would  say  to 
that  theory,"  he  said. 

"Yet  some  of  the  most  noted  of  your  profession  hold 
this  view,"  Alfred  answered.  "Tudeman  tells  us  of  a 
case  which  came  under  his  observation.  A  lunatic  was, 
insane  on  one  side  of  his  head,  but  observed  and  cor- 
rected his  own  insanity.  What  observed  and  corrected 
this  insanity?  Certainly  the  man  himself,  not  half  of 
him." 

Stanley  and  Bill  Lakeman  seemed  to  be  thinking  the 
matter  over  quite  seriously,  but  neither  ventured  to 
question   further  along  that  line.     When  Alfred  was 


"OPENED  HE  THE  SCRIPTURES"  95 

satisfied  that  no  more  would  be  asked,  he  turned  his 
attention  to  the  matter  before  them. 

''Let  me  see,"  he  said,  reflectively;  ''I  think  last 
night  we  were  considering  the  question  of  rewards. 
We  had  taken  the  position  that  in  the  next  world  there 
would  be  many  different  degrees  of  reward,  according 
to  the  work  we  had  accomplished  in  this  life.  Did  we 
succeed  in  making  that  much  clear?" 

''I  think  you  substantiated  your  position  by  the 
Bible.  At  least  I  thought  so  last  night,"  Stanley  said. 
''But  you  have  raised  several  questions  in  my  mind. 
Now  if  the  Bible  be  true,  it  ought  not  seriously  to 
contradict  itself.  How  can  every  man  be  raised  in  his 
own  order,  as  you  said  last  night  when,  according  to 
the  Bible  itself,  the  vast  majority  of  them  must  already 
be  in  hell  ?  I  almost  came  to  the  conclusion  from  your 
talk  last  night  that  you  believed  that  Grod  would  not 
send  the  unbeliever  to  hell.  Now  I  have  looked  up  sev- 
eral passages  of  scripture  to-day  myself,  and  I  can't 
seem  to  harmonize  them  with  your  position." 

Bill  Lakeman  nodded  approval  of  his  son's  question. 
Evidently  the  same  line  of  thought  had  been  in  his 
own  mind.  Over  Jennie's  face  there  passed  a  shadow, 
a  vague  fear  that  the  comfort  she  had  received  last 
night  might  be  fleeting. 

"I  think  in  that  case,"  Alfred  said,  "we  had  better 
examine  those  passages  which  you  say  you  cannot 
harmonize,  for  we  can  safely  take  the  position  that 
truth  will  harmonize  with  itself.  Only  half  truths  and 
falsehoods  fail  to  harmonize.  Before  we  do  that,  how- 
ever, let  us  summarize  our  position  as  taken  last  night. 


96  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

We  took  the  position,  first,  that  every  man  would  be 
resurrected;  second,  that  every  man  would  come  forth 
in  his  own  order  to  receive  his  own  degree  of  glory; 
third,  that  there  exists  a  reward  for  the  disciples  of 
Christ  separate  and  apart  from  the  reward  which  will 
be  given  those  who  do  not  accept  him." 

''I  like  that  theory,"  Bill  Lakeman  said,  ''because  it 
is  so  sensible  and  adequate.  I  can  see  that  even  the 
part  allowing  the  highest  reward  to  go  to  those  who 
are  the  disciples  of  Christ  is  just.  You,  if  you  spend 
your  life  serving  Christ,  will  deserve  more  at  his  hands 
than  I  would  who  have  gone  through  life  a  skeptic, 
doubting  him  and  his  words;  yes,  and  even  sometimes 
criticizing.  But  what  are  you  going  to  do  about  that 
class  of  Christ's  disciples  who  use  their  religion  only 
as  a  coat  of  respectability  to  cover  up  about  as  much 
meanness  as  respectability  can  cover,  with  a  little  ex- 
tra thrown  in?  What  are  you  going  to  do  about 
them?" 

Alfred  smiled  comprehendingly.  ''You  will  notice," 
he  rejoined,  "that  I  said,  'Those  who  apply  the  law  of 
Christ  in  their  lives.'  I  am  not  even  trying  to  do 
anything  with  the  class  you  mentioned.  I  am  inclined 
to  think  that  Christ  will  do  all  to  them  that  is  necessarj^ 
when  the  time  comes.  He  has  told  us  that,  'Not  every 
one  who  saith  unto  me,  Lord,  Lord,  shall  enter  into 
the  kingdom  of  heaven.'  He  tells  us  plainly  it  is  he 
that  'doeth  the  will  of  the  Father,'  that  shall  enter 
there.  The  others,  I  am  afraid,  must  settle  back  to 
their  own  level,  and  that  at  times  may  be  quite  low. 
Now,  let  us  see  what  we  can  do  with  the  lack  of  har- 


"OPENED  HE  THE  SCRIPTURES"  97 

mony  which  Stanley  has  discovered.  Let  us  hear  your 
passages  of  scripture,  Stanley.  We  will  all  turn  to 
them  while  you  read." 

''There  is  a  place  in  the  ninth  chapter  of  Mark 
which  reads  like  this,"  Stanley  said :  "  'And  if  thy  hand 
oifend  thee,  cut  it  off;  it  is  better  for  thee  to  enter  life 
maimed,  than  having  two  hands  to  go  into  hell,  into 
the  fire  that  never  shall  be  quenched;  where  their 
worm  dieth  not,  and  the  fire  is  not  quenched.'  "  Stan- 
ley paused  and  looked  at  Alfred  with  an  air  of  finality 
which  seemed  to  say,  "Now,  you  can't  get  away  with 
that." 

"Yes,  and  I've  got  another  one  to  add  to  that,"  Bill 
Lakeman  broke  in,  flapping  the  leaves  of  his  big  Bible 
noisily.  When  he  found  the  place  he  was  hunting, 
heavy  red  lines  around  the  verses  proclaimed  that  they 
had  been  read  and  considered  before.  "Matthew 
13:41:  'The  Son  of  Man  shall  send  forth  his  angels, 
and  they  shall  gather  out  of  his  kingdom  all  things 
that  offend,  and  them  which  do  iniquity ;  and  shall  cast 
them  into  a  furnace  of  fire :  there  shall  be  wailing  and 
gnashing  of  teeth.'  " 

When  his  father  paused,  Stanley  said:  "Now,  I 
can't  see  how,  with  all  those  people  tied  up  in  ever- 
lasting fire,  you  are  going  to  give  them  the  rewards 
you  were  talking  about  last  night." 

Jennie's  face  was  troubled.  Bill  Lakeman  watched 
Alfred  narrowly;  he  felt  that  much  depended  on  his 
answer.  Alfred's  face  was  serious,  but  his  eyes 
twinkled. 

"Do  you  know,"  he  said,  "that  reminds  me  of  an  ex- 


98  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

perience  I  once  had  when  I  was  a  child;  one  Christmas 
my  grandmother  gave  me  a  game.  It  was  all  the  States 
of  the  Union  cut  from  cardboard.  When  I  put  them 
together  properly  I  had  a  complete  map  of  the  United 
States.  When  I  put  them  together  improperly  the 
result  was  confusion.  One  thing  I  always  tried  to  do, 
until  I  learned  better,  was  to  put  the  State  of  Texas 
up  where  New  York  should  have  been,  but  it  never 
seemed  to  fit.  Because  it  was  big  and  glaring  I  always 
wanted  to  use  it  first.  But  I  could  never  get  a  complete 
map  of  the  United  States  that  way.  Now  we  have  just 
such  a  task  before  us  to-night.  There  is  a  beautiful 
plan  of  salvation  in  the  Scriptures;  but,  like  my  map, 
it  needs  placing  together,  and  we  will  need  to  be  very 
careful  or  we  may  not  succeed  in  bringing  such  pieces 
together  as  shall  at  last  make  a  perfect  Avhole." 

"I  suppose  you  mean  by  that,"  Bill  Lakeman  said, 
the  smile  once  more  returning  to  his  kind  old  face, 
'Hhat  Stanley  and  I  have  picked  out  the  Texases. 
Well,  have  it  your  own  way.  We're  ready  to  hear  what 
your  New  York  is." 

''We're  not  even  ready  for  New  York,  yet,"  Alfred 
laughed  back.  Then  seriously:  ''Last  night  in  our 
discussions  we  looked  at  only  one  side  of  the  question 
before  us.  We  talked  of  rewards.  I  think  it  is  very 
evident  to  any  Bible  student  that  there  exists  also  pun- 
ishment. Perhaps  the  words  "reward"  and  "punish- 
ment" hardly  express  what  we  wish  to  say,  for  after  all, 
it  is  a  deeper  question  than  that.  It  all  centers  around 
two  things :  The  mission  of  Christ  and  the  work  of  the 
Devil.     So  if  we  get  anything  out  of  this  question  we 


"OPENED  HE  THE  SCRIPTURES"  99 

must  go  farther  back.  We  must  study  those  two  things 
around  which  it  all  revolves." 

Bill  Lakeman  looked  at  Alfred,  a  serious,  half-wistful 
look  on  his  face.  ''That  is  something  I  never  could  see 
much  in,"  he  said.  ''It  has  always  looked  to  me  as 
though  the  mission  of  Christ  which  we  hear  so  much 
about  is  a  sort  of  child's  play.  Don't  misunderstand 
me.  I  want  to  believe  in  it,  but  there  seems  so  little  to 
believe  in." 

"I  can  understand  your  feeling,"  Alfred  answered 
gently,  "for  I  have  felt  the  same  way  myself  in  the 
past.  But,  oh!"  he  continued,  his  voice  vibrating  with 
emotion,  "it  is  because  we  do  not  understand.  The 
work  which  Christ  has  undertaken  is  the  biggest  thing 
in  all  the  history  of  the  universe,  and  when  it  is  ac- 
complished, will  be  the  most  complete." 

"Then  you  do  not  think  his  work  has  been  accom- 
plished yet?"  Stanley  asked. 

"  No  ! "  Alfred  answered  earnestly.  ' '  We  have 
scarcely  seen  the  beginning  of  that  work  yet." 

For  a  moment  dead  stillness  reigned.  Then  Alfred 
continued  more  gently : 

' '  I  am  inclined  to  think  we  will  never  be  able  in  this 
world  to  fully  comprehend  the  true  significance  of  the 
statement,  'He  has  trodden  the  wine  press  alone.' 

"The  Bible  gives  us  this  picture,"  he  went  on,  his 
voice  losing  its  dreamy  quality :  "  'When  a  strong  man 
armed  keepeth  his  palace,  his  goods  are  in  peace:  but 
when  a  stronger  than  he  shall  come  upon  him,  and  over- 
come him,  he  taketh  from  him  all  his  armor  wherein 
he  trusted  and  divideth  his  spoils.' 


100  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING* 

''These  verses  give  us  a  hint  of  what  the  mission  of 
Christ  is.  He  gives  us  to  understand  that  there  is  a 
strong  man  keeping  a  house,  but  that  a  stronger  than 
he  shall  come  and  take  away  all  his  armor  and  divide 
his  goods. 

' '  Now,  Mr.  Lakeman,  will  you  read  1  John  3 :  8  and 
tell  us  from  there  why  Christ  was  manifested  ? ' ' 

Bill  Lakeman  read:  "  'For  this  purpose  was  Christ 
manifested,  that  he  might  destroy  the  works  of  the 
Devil.'  Destroy  the  works  of  the  Devil?"  Bill  Lake- 
man  repeated  questioningly.  "Well,  he'll  have  a  life- 
sized  job." 

"Yes,"  Alfred  answered,  smiling  at  the  other's 
quaintness,  "I  think  it  will  take  a  'stronger  than  he' 
all  right  to  do  the  work.  Now  I  think  the  thing  for 
us  to  do  is  to  find  what  the  works  of  the  Devil  are, 
which  we  have  just  read  Christ  came  to  destroy.  Now 
I  think  we  can  agree  that  sin  is  one  of  the  things  which 
the  Devil  brought  into  the  world.  Miss  Lakeman, 
from  James  1: 15  what  do  we  learn  sin  will  cause?" 

Aunt  Sophronia  lifted  her  eyes  but  made  no  move  to 
turn  the  leaves  of  her  Bible.    "Death,"  she  answered. 

"Very  well,"  said  Alfred.  "Now  we  will  see  who 
had  the  power  over  death.  Stanley,  will  you  tell  us 
from  Hebrews  2:14?" 

After  a  patient  effort  Stanley  found  the  place  and 
read:  "  'Forasmuch  then  as  the  children  are  partakers 
of  flesh  and  blood,  he  also  himself  likewise  took  part 
of  the  same ;  that  through  death  he  might  destroy  him 
that  had  the  power  of  death,  that  is,  the  Devil.'  " 

"We  learn  from  this,"  Alfred  continued,  "the  reason 


"OPENED  HE  THE  SCRIPTURES"  101 

Christ  took  upon  himself  a  body  of  flesh ;  that  he  him- 
self might  become  subject  to  death  and  thus  through 
death  destroy  him  who  had  power  of  death,  the  Devil." 

"I  never  thought  of  the  Devil  as  being  the  one  who 
had  power  of  death,"  Jennie  said.  ''I  think  I  have  al- 
ways blamed  God  for  death." 

''I  think  you  were  wrong  in  that,"  Alfred  said. 
''God  is  the  great  life-giver,  the  upbuilder  in  all  things, 
not  the  destroyer.  Now  if  it  is  the  Devil  who  has  the 
power  of  death,  how  many  will  he  bring  death  upon?" 

"All  men,"  Stanley  answered  emphatically. 

''That  is  true,"  Alfred  returned.  "Now,  Miss  Burn- 
side,  tell  us  from  1  Corinthians  1 5 :  22  what  Christ  will 
do  to  all  men." 

Jennie  studied  the  verse  carefully  a  moment,  and 
then  said  brightly:     "Make  them  alive!" 

"I  think  we  can  safely  take  the  position,"  Alfred 
went  on,  "that  death  is  twofold.  Please  note  this 
carefully:  First,  spiritual,  that  is,  separation  from 
God.  Second,  physical,  separation  of  the  body  and 
spirit.  Those  two  things  cover  the  death  which  Satan 
brought  into  the  world.  Consequently  those  two  things 
cover  the  death  which  Christ  undertook  to  overcome." 

"That's  a  strange  thought,"  Bill  Lakeman  said. 
"Why,  that  would  lead  us  to — but  never  mind — I'll 
ask  you  that  later.  Yes,  I'll  ask  you  that  later."  The 
old  man  nodded  his  head  with  apparent  self-satisfac- 
tion. 

"I  think  I  know  what  your  question  is,  Mr.  Lake- 
man,"  Alfred  answered,  "and  I  will  answer  that  ques- 
•^^ion  also  later.    You  can  just  save  it  for  future  refer- 


102  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

ence.  But  to  return  to  our  subject.  We  learn  from  2 
Timothy  2 :  26  that  those  who  do  not  accept  the  teach- 
ings of  Christ  are  taken  captive  by  Satan.  From 
Psalms  9 :  17  and  55 :  15  we  also  learn  that  those  cap- 
tives of  Satan  are  taken  down  to  hell.  Now  we  have 
learned  from  these  verses  just  what  Stanley  was  saying 
to  us  a  few  moments  ago,  that  many  people  have  been 
confined  in  hell.  Now,  let  us  try  to  learn  something 
more  about  this  place  where  these  captives  are  con- 
fined. Stanley,  will  you  read  Isaiah  5:14?  The  first 
part  of  the  verse  will  do." 

Stanley  read:  "  'Therefore  hell  hath  enlarged  her- 
self and  opened  her  mouth  without  measure.'  " 

''If  I  were  a  debater,"  Bill  Lakeman  spoke  up,  "I'd 
say,  Mr.  Stewart,  that  you  were  talking  on  the  wrong 
side  of  the  question." 

''Perhaps  I  am,"  laughed  Alfred,  "but  I  think  that 
in  our  search  for  truth  nothing  which  contains  truth 
can  be  on  the  wrong  side  of  the  question.  These  verses 
show  something  of  the  extent  to  which  Satan  succeeds 
in  taking  captive  the  souls  of  men.  'Hell  hath  opened 
her  mouth  without  measure.'  Now  we  have  another 
name  for  hell,  given  in  Isaiah  24 :  22.  Miss  Burnside, 
will  you  read  it?" 

"  'And  they  shall  be  gathered  together  as  prisoners 
are  gathered  in  the  pit.'  " 

"We  will  find  the  same  term  used  in  Job  33:  18-24, 
28 ;  also  in  Psalm  28 : 1,  while  the  thirty-second  chapter 
of  Ezekiel  shows  conclusively  that  hell  and  the  pit  are 
the  same  place.  Now,  Stanley,  will  you  read  again 
Isaiah  24:22?" 


"OPENED  HE  THE  SCRIPTURES"  103 

"  'And  they  shall  be  gathered  together  in  the  pit,  and 
shall  be  shut  in  the  prison.'  " 

''Now  I  think  we  have  established  the  fact,  that  first, 
the  Devil  brought  sin  into  the  world  and  through  sin 
gained  the  power  over  death;  second,  that  through  sin 
and  death  the  souls  of  vast  multitudes  are  confined  in 
hell,  the  pit,  or  the  prison,  whichever  term  you  care  to 
use.    These,  therefore,  are  the  works  of  the  Devil. 

"I  think  we  have  also  shown  that  the  purpose  for 
which  Christ  came  into  the  world  was  to  destroy  the 
works  of  the  Devil:  sin,  death,  and  the  resultant  cap- 
tivity of  souls.  Now,  Mr.  Lakeman,  will  you  read  1 
Timothy  4:10?" 

Bill  Lakeman  turned  and  read:  "  'For  therefore 
we  both  labor  and  suffer  reproach,  because  we  trust  in 
the  living  God,  who  is  the  Savior  of  all  men,  specially 
those  that  believe.'  " 

When  he  had  finished  he  raised  his  head  and  looked 
at  Alfred  keenly. 

"Are  you  sure,  Mr.  Stewart,  that  this  verse  isn't 
another  Texas?  It  looks  to  me  like  a  misfit.  Here 
you've  got  a  lot  of  people  already  damned  and  in  hell. 
Now,  how  do  you  figure  Christ  is  going  to  be  the  Savior 
of  all  men?" 

Alfred's  vision  wandered  away  from  the  little  group 
down  to  where  the  fireflies  were  beginning  to  play 
along  the  creek. 

"It  does  look  like  a  predicament,  doesn't  it?"  he 
asked.  "Now,  let  us  get  your  question  straight.  Mr. 
Lakeman  has  just  read  from  the  Bible  that  Christ  is 
to  be  the  Savior  of  all  men.    Now  he  wants  to  know,  if 


104  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

I  understand  him  correctly,  how  Christ  can  be  the 
Savior  of  all  men  when  the  Devil  has  already  captured 
the  souls  of  a  vast  majority  of  them;  for,  compara- 
tively speaking,  Christ  has  been  accepted  as  the  Savior 
of  the  world  by  a  very  small  portion  of  the  inhabitants 
of  the  earth,  a  surprisingly  small  proportion.  That  is 
your  question,  is  it  not,  Mr.  Lakeman ?' ' 

Bill  Lakeman  nodded. 

''Now,  let  us  look  for  the  answer.  Stanley,  will  you 
read  once  more  from  Isaiah  24:22?" 

Stanley  read :  "  'And  they  shall  be  gathered  together 
as  prisoners  are  gathered  in  the  pit  and  shall  be  shut 
up  in  the  prison  and  after  many  days  they  shall  be 
visited.'  " 

"Eh!  What's  that?"  This  from  Bill  Lakeman. 
' '  Read  that  again. ' ' 

When  Stanley  had  read  once  more  the  old  man 
asked:  "Do  you  mean  to  tell  us  that  they  will  receive 
visitors  in  hell?" 

"I  can  answer  that  question  as  well  as  a  preacher," 
Stanley  spoke  up  before  Alfred  had  time  to  reply.  "I 
heard  one  once  tell  how  every  thousand  years  Satan 
would  walk  around  hell  and  open  a  red-hot  door  and 
tell  the  man,  woman,  or  child  shut  up  inside  that  the 
one  thousand  years  just  passed  was  only  a  moment  out 
of  the  eternity  through  which  they  would  have  to  stay 
there." 

Stanley's  face  was  quite  serious — around  the  mouth 
there  had  suddenly  appeared  set,  hard  lines.  The 
young  preacher's  laugh  rang  out  as  his  eyes  rested  ac- 
cusingly on  his  friend. 


"OPENED  HE  THE  SCRIPTURES"  105 

''Oh,  Stanley,  Stanley!"  he  said.  ''You  almost  had 
me  thinking  I  was  hearing  a  big  evangelist  preaching  a 
sermon  on  hell.  Now,  listen."  The  young  preacher 
suddenly  leaned  forward  and  let  his  fist  fall  on  the 
table  in  front  of  Stanley.  "You  tell  that  preacher 
that  I  want  to  know  where  he  finds  his  records  of  these 
periodical  visits  of  Satan  in  hell,  outside  of  his  own 
imagination.  I  want  to  know  when  a  man's  walking 
around  in  his  own  house  is  called  a  visit.  I  think  your 
preacher  will  have  to  look  somewhere  else  for  his  visi- 
tor. I  believe  we  can  give  better  answer  ourselves. 
Do  you  remember  the  verses  we  used  in  the  beginning 
of  our  study?  'When  a  strong  man  armed  keepeth  his 
palace,  his  goods  are  in  peace :  but  when  a  stronger  than 
he  shall  come  upon  him,  and  overcome  him,  he  taketh 
from  him  all  his  armor  wherein  he  trusted  and  divideth 
his  spoils.'  Now  let  us  not  forget  that  thought.  The 
strong  man's  goods  are  safe  until  a  stronger  man  comes. 
Now  let  us  look  a  little  further.  Let  us  see  if  we  can 
find  some  of  the  work  to  be  accomplished  by  this 
srange  visitor  in  hell;  then,  perhaps  we  can  decide 
whether  it  is  the  'stronger  than  he'  or  not.  Now  let 
us  summarize :  "We  have  learned  that  Satan  has  truly 
captured  many  souls  and  has  brought  them  down  to 
hell,  the  pit,  and  has  shut  them  up  in  prison,  but  that 
after  many  days  they  shall  be  visited.  Now  what  is 
the  object  of  that  visit,  and  what  is  to  be  accomplished 
by  it?" 

"Well,  if  it  is  not  Satan  who  visits  them,  who  does? 
That's  the  question  which  is  bothering  me,"  Stanley 
said. 


106  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

'^That's  the  question  which  will  bother  us  all  pretty 
soon,"  Alfred  replied. 

''It  looks  to  me,  young  man,  like  you  are  getting  into 
mighty  deep  water,"  Bill  Lakeman  said.  ''I've  talked 
to  lots  of  preachers,  but  I'll  declare,  you've  got  me 
curious. ' ' 

"It's  clear  as  far  as  we  have  gone,  isn't  it?"  Alfred 
asked  anxiously.    "Those  things  are  all  in  the  Bible." 

"Yes,  yes;  that's  it.  They  are  all  in  the  Bible,  but  it 
looks  to  me  like  a  great  big  muddle." 

"Well,  let's  see.  I  think  we  can  straighten  out  the 
muddle,"  Alfred  said.  "Miss  Lakeman,  from  Zecha- 
riah  9 :  11,  will  you  tell  us  what  is  to  happen  to  the 
prisoners  ? ' ' 

Miss  Lakeman  read:  "  'As  for  thee  also,  by  the 
blood  of  thy  covenant  I  have  sent  forth  thy  prisoners 
out  of  the  pit,  wherein  is  no  water.'  " 

"Do  you  mean,"  Stanley  asked,  "that  those  prison- 
ers can  ever  come  out  of  hell?" 

"Do  you  remember,"  Alfred  asked  in  return,  "what 
happens  to  the  strong  man's  goods  when  a  'stronger 
than  he'  shall  come?" 

Bill  Lakeman  scratched  his  head  and  looked  thought- 
fully at  the  book  before  him.  Finally,  without  ventur- 
ing an  opinion,  he  simply  drew  pencil  marks  around 
the  verse  and  said:  "Well,  let's  hear  what  you've  got 
next." 

"All  right;  Stanley,  read  Isaiah  61:1." 

"  'He  hath  sent  me  to  bind  up  the  broken Jiearted, 
to  proclaim  liberty  to  the  captives,  and  the  opening 
of  the  prison  to  them  that  are  bound. '  " 


"OPENED  HE  THE  SCRIPTURES"  107 

Bill  Lakeman  began  to  show  signs  of  excitement,  but 
he  said  nothing,  merely  marking  again  around  the 
verse  in  his  Bible. 

' '  Now,  Miss  Burnside,  Isaiah  49  :  9. " 

' '  '  That  thou  mayest  say  to  the  prisoners,  Go  forth ; 
to  them  that  sit  in  darkness,  Show  yourselves.'  " 

''Now,  Mr.  Lakeman,  Isaiah  42:7." 

The  old  man  read,  but  his  voice  shook  as  he  did  so : 
*'  'To  open  the  blind  eyes,  to  bring  out  the  prisoners 
from  the  prison,  and  them  that  sit  in  darkness  from  the 
prison  house.' 

"Man!"  he  said  as  though  he  could  contain  himself 
no  longer.  "Do  you  know  what  you  are  teaching  us? 
You  are  teaching  us  that  Satan  can't  keep  the  people  in 
hell  even  after  he  gets  them  -there." 

"I  know  it,"  Alfred  answered,  his  voice  taking  on 
the  soft,  almost  caressing  quality  he  always  used  when 
deeply  stirred.  "I'm  teaching  you  what  happens  when 
a  'stronger  than  he'  shall  come." 

"What  I  want  to  know  is,  Who  is  going  to  do  all 
this?"  Stanley  broke  in.  "How's  all  this  going  to  be 
brought  about  after  Satan  gets  them  all  in  hell?" 

"The  Prophet  Ezekiel  tells  us,"  Alfred  answered 
him,  "that  the  strong  among  the  mighty  shall  speak 
to  him  out  of  the  midst  of  hell,  with  them  that  help 
him." 

"  'The  strong  among  the  mighty.'  Well,  that  doesn't 
tell  us  who  it  is,"  Stanley  persisted. 

"Turn  to  Psalm  24:7,  8.  That  may  help  us.  Miss 
Burnside,  read  it,  please." 

"  'Lift  up  your  heads,  0  ye  gates;  and  be  ye  lifted 


108  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

up?  ye  everlasting  doors;  and  the  King  of  glory  shall 
come  in.  Who  is  this  King  of  glory?  The  Lord  strong 
and  mighty,  the  Lord  mighty  in  battle.'  " 

''Do  you  mean  to  say,"  Jennie  asked,  ''that  it  is  the 
Lord  who  is  to  speak  out  of  the  midst  of  hell  ?  Surely, 
Christ  never  went  to  hell." 

"He  is  the  strong  among  the  mighty.  Isaiah  speaks 
of  him  as  the  mighty  to  save.  The  Bible  tells  us  that 
he  is  to  speak  out  of  the  midst  of  hell.  It  also  tells 
us,  in  Ephesians  4 :  9,  that  he  also  descended  into  the 
nethermost  parts  of  the  earth." 

"But  he  did  no  sin.  Why  should  he  be  there?" 
Jennie  was  evidently  troubled. 

"Let's  look  for  the  answer  in  the  Bible,"  Alfred 
said.  "Stanley,  will  you  turn  to  1  Peter  3:  18,  19  and 
read?" 

"  'For  Christ  also  hath  once  suffered  for  sins,  the 
just  for  the  unjust,  that  he  might  bring  us  to  God,  be- 
ing put  to  death  in  the  flesh,  but  quickened  by  the 
Spirit:  by  which  also  he  went  and  preached  to  the 
spirits  in  prison.'  " 

"Now  if  we  will  read  also  verse  20,"  Alfred  con- 
tinued, "we  will  find  that  these  spirits  to  whom  Christ 
went  to  preach  were  those  who  had  refused  to  believe 
when  Noah  preached  to  them  before  the  flood.  They 
had  been  in  the  prison  house  many  years,  but  after 
'many  days'  they  were  visited.  Christ  himself  went  to 
preach  to  them.  Remember  the  words,  'He  hath  sent 
me  to  preach  deliverance  to  the  captives.'  Paul  tells 
us  that  'he  led  captivity  captive';  1  Peter  4:6  says, 
'For  this  cause  is  the  gospel  preached  to  them  that  are 
dead.'  " 


"OPENED  HE  THE  SCRIPTURES"  109 

Night  was  advancing  from  over  the  hill,  the  shadows 
along  the  creek  were  deepening.  A  lone  cricket  back 
of  the  barn  sent  out  his  shrill  call  on  the  evening  air. 
The  frogs  in  the  pond  raised  a  melody  in  chorus,  but 
these  things  went  unnoticed. 

''Ah,  no,"  the  speaker  continued,  the  light  of  a 
dreamer  in  his  eyes,  ''the  strong  among  the  mighty  has 
come.  He  that  liveth  and  was  dead,  but  is  alive  forever- 
more,  and  has  the  keys  of  death  and  hell,  will  open 
the  prison  house  and  say  to  the  prisoners,  'Go  forth.' 
Truly  it  was  a  mission  worthy  of  the  Son  of  God." 

Bill  Lakeman  jumped  from  his  chair,  overturning  it 
in  his  agitation.  "God!"  he  ejaculated,  "so  that  is 
the  mission  of  Christ,  and  I  have  dared  to  speak  lightly 
of  it;  dared  to  criticize  it;  dared  to  call  it  a  failure; 
dared  to  laugh  at  religion.  My  God!  Could  he  ever 
forgive  me?" 

Tears  flowed  freely  down  the  old  man's  face.  He 
turned  and  grasped  Alfred's  hand  in  his  own. 

"Go  on,  my  boy;  go  tell  that  message  to  the  world. 
Lord,  how  they  need  it!  How  we  all  need  it!  Don't 
let  them  go  doAvn  to  their  graves  as  Mrs.  Burnside  has 
gone,  and  as  I  almost  have  gone,  with  hardness  in  their 
hearts  against  God  and  Christ,  because  we  thought  they 
were  trying  to  damn  humanity  instead  of  save  them. 
God  in  heaven!"  The  old  man  lifted  his  hands  above 
his  head  appealingly.  "How  could  I  ever  have  been 
so  blind?" 

"Mr.  Lakeman,"  Alfred  said,  his  own  voice  shaking 
with  emotion,  "you  did  not  criticize  Christ's  work.  You 
only  criticized  what  you  thought  was  Christ's  work; 


110  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

what  the  religious  world  told  you  was  Christ's  work." 

''Ah,  I  know/'  the  old  man  said  more  calmly,  half 
sadly,  "but  there  was  the  Bible.  Why  couldn't  I  read 
it  myself?     Why  couldn't  I  see?" 

"You  simply  put  the  map  together  wrong,"  Alfred 
answered. 

"Yes,  yes;  I  suppose  so.  But  I  can't  see  why  I 
never  saw  it  before." 

Bill  Lakeman  had  not  been  the  only  one  deeply  moved 
by  the  revelations  of  the  hour.  Jennie  had  slipped 
away  when  he  began  speaking,  fearing  that  Alfred 
would  see  the  tears  that  would  come.  They  were  happy 
tears  now,  tears  that  seemed  to  wash  away  the  burden 
of  years. 

"Tell  Mr.  Stewart  I  will  come  again  to-morrow 
night,"  she  said  to  Stanley  as  she  slipped  past  him. 
He  endeavored  to  follow  her  to  the  gate  and  assist  her 
to  mount,  but  she  was  too  quick  for  him  and  was  in 
the  saddle  and  away  before  he  reached  the  gate. 

Stanley  did  not  return  to  the  house  at  once,  but  stood 
leaning  against  the  gate  as  he  gazed  out  across  the 
valley  where  many  fireflies  frolicked  in  the  darkness. 

"Who  would  have  believed  that  the  Bible  taught 
that?"  he  said  to  himself.  "George !  it  was  great.  I'm 
like  father;  I  always  thought  there  wasn't  much  to  the 
mission  of  Christ,  but  it  is  wonderful.  In  the  face  of 
all  that,  I  can't  doubt  God.  I  don't  want  to  doubt 
him." 


CHAPTER  12 
THE  OLD  TREE  HEARS  STRANGE  THINGS 

WHEN  Stanley  returned  to  the  house  Alfred 
and  his  father  had  disappeared.  Aunt  So- 
phronia  was  removing  chairs  and  tables. 
Stanley  sat  down  on  the  edge  of  the  porch  and  pulled 
a  bunch  of  ivy  leaves  from  the  vine  beside  him. 

"Well,  Aunt  Sophronia,  what  did  you  think  of  it?" 
he  asked. 

His  aunt  stopped  with  a  chair  poised  in  each  hand. 
Stanley  reached  out  and  took  them  from  her.  '*IT1 
take  these  in/'  he  said. 

''Well,  I  believed  it,"  she  answered.  "I  always 
knew  there  would  be  some  way.  I  knew  the  Devil'd 
never  get  all  those  people.  Only  I  didn't  know  how  to 
prove  it  from  the  Bible  like  he  does." 

The  old  lady  turned  to  pick  up  the  last  table.  '*IT1 
bring  that  in,  too,"  Stanley  called  back  as  he  disap- 
peared within. 

After  placing  things  at  rights  once  more  in  the  house 
he  strolled  off  through  the  evening  shadows,  down  the 
path  which  led  to  the  grove.  It  was  quite  dark 
among  the  trees,  but  Stanley  knew  the  grove  well  and 
made  his  way  with  assurance.  Not  far  from  the  edge 
of  the  grove  stood  an  old  oak  tree.  In  times  long  past 
its  low  branches  had  been  bent  by  a  force  now  un- 


112  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

known,  probably  the  falling  of  a  larger  tree,  and  now, 
as  it  had  grown  old,  formed  an  excellent  seat. 

Had  the  daylight  afforded,  one  could  have  seen  a 
w^ell-defined  path  leading  directly  to  this  tree,  showing 
that  from,  childhood  it  had  been  Stanley's  favorite 
spot  of  seclusion.  Many  of  his  childhood  secrets  were 
hidden  away  in  the  heart  of  the  old  tree.  Often  in  the 
days  long  past,  seated  on  the  low  limb  now  almost 
worn  smooth,  he  had  whittled  away,  bare  feet  dang- 
ling, while  his  mind  was  busy  with  boyish  cares;  and 
the  old  tree  had  stood  by  in  silent  sympathy.  Nor  was 
this  all.  It  had  gathered  other  secrets  of  later  years, 
not  so  much  from  his  telling,  but  from  the  trouble  or 
joy  which  was  written  on  his  face,  or  the  shadow  which 
lay  in  his  eyes  as  he  came  to  commune  with  himself. 

The  greatest  problems  of  his  life  had  been  thought 
out  here.  It  was  seated  in  the  old  tree  that  he  had 
planned  his  profession.  It  was  here  he  often  came  to 
think  when  stubborn  cases  refused  to  yield  to  his 
treatment,  and  had  often  received  the  inspiration  which 
brought  to  him  professional  success.  And  once  he  had 
come  here  with  a  glad  light  in  his  eyes  and  a  song  in 
his  heart,  when — but  we  are  not  telling  that  now. 

So  he  came  to-night  to  think  on  a  new  phase  of  life — 
the  hereafter;  not  now  as  a  skeptic,  doubting  such  a 
condition,  but  rather  as  an  inquirer,  seeking  to  delve 
deeper  into  truths  hitherto  unknown. 

Stanley  looked  out  from  among  the  trees  where  the 
last  dim  light  of  day  faintly  illumined  the  path  leading 
to  the  grove.  A  figure  was  coming  along  the  path,  at 
first  barely  discernible  in  the  darkness ;  but  as  it  drew 


TREE   HEARS   STRANGE  THINGS  113 

nearer  the  grove  he  saw  by  the  unnatural  gait  that 
crutches  were  used  in  walking.  Evidently  Stanley  was 
not  the  only  one  who  wished  to  commune  with  himself 
in  God's  own  temples.  However,  Stanley  had  no 
further  wish  to  commune  with  himself.  He  wanted 
much  more  to  ask  questions  which  were  crowding  up 
in  his  mind. 

The  figure  came  nearer  and  paused  at  the  spot  where 
the  path  entered  the  grove,  as  if  uncertain  whether  to 
enter  the  deeper  shadows  of  the  trees  or  to  turn  else- 
where. 

''Stewart,"  Stanley  called.  The  figure  stopped,  evi- 
dently puzzled  to  tell  w^here  the  voice  came  from. 

''Oh,  I'm  here  in  the  grove,"  Stanley  called,  laugh- 
ing at  the  other's  uncertainty.  "Just  follow  the  path, 
it's  perfectly  level  and  clear.  There's  no  danger  of 
falling,  and  it  leads  directly  here." 

Alfred  entered  the  woods  and,  as  his  eyes  became 
more  accustomed  to  the  darkness,  could  make  out  the 
outlines  of  the  trees  and  the  path  which  wound  among 
them.  As  he  came  up  to  the  old  oak  he  could  see 
Stanley  seated  on  the  low  limb  of  the  tree. 

"I  thought  I  was  the  only  one,"  Alfred  said,  "who 
could  not  think  of  going  to  bed  without  once  more 
getting  out  among  the  trees,  but  I  seem  to  have  found 
a  kindred  spirit." 

"I  tell  my  troubles  to  this  old  tree,"  Stanley  replied, 
as  he  moved  over  to  make  room  for  his  friend. 

"Am  I  to  understand  that  you  are  in  trouble  to- 
night?" Alfred  asked.    "I  didn't " 

"No,  you  didn't,"  Stanley  broke  in  quickly.     "Be- 


114  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

sides,  you  are  not  to  take  my  statements  too  literally. 
I  am  not  selfish  enough  to  give  this  tree  only  my 
troubles.  I  think  even  a  tree  would  die  if  we  did  noth- 
ing but  tell  it  troubles  all  the  time.  No.  I  came  out 
here  to  try  to  get  straight  in  my  mind  what  you  were 
trying  to  teach  us  to-night." 

"Are  you  satisfied,  so  far  as  your  study  has  taken 
you?"  Alfred  asked. 

**Very  much  so,"  the  other  answered.  ''Only  it 
didn't  go  far  enough.    I'm  just  full  of  questions." 

''When  you  were  in  medical  school,"  Alfred  said, 
"I  dare  say  you  wanted  to  start  right  in  the  first  year 
learning  surgery." 

"Just  about  that  bad,"  Stanley  admitted. 

"Let's  hear  some  of  your  questions,"  Alfred  said, 
leaning  his  crutch  on  the  limb  beside  him.  "What's 
bothering  you  most?" 

"Well,  it  will  probably  be  another  Texas,  as  father 
says,  but  here  goes.  If  it  is,  you  can  put  it  off  for 
future  reference.  Now,  if  the  unbelievers  must  go  to 
hell,  will  they  all  burn  in  a  lake  of  fire  until  Christ 
comes  to  take  them  out?" 

"I  do  not  understand  it  so,"  Alfred  returned.  "I 
think  the  hell  or  prison  house  in  which  the  captive  spir- 
its are  confined  between  death  and  the  resurrection 
is  a  place  separate  and  apart  from  that  hell  spoken  of 
as  a  lake  of  fire." 

"A  separate  place?"  Stanley  asked,  puzzled. 

"Yes,"  Alfred  answered.  "We  read  in  Revelation 
20:13,  speaking  of  the  time  of  the  judgment,  *And 
death  and  hell  delivered  up  the  dead  which  were  in 


TREE    HEARS   STRANGE   THINGS  115 

them:  and  they  were  judged  every  man  according  to 
their  works.'  The  next  verse  reads,  now  notice  the 
wording,  'And  death  and  hell  were  cast  into  the  lake 
of  fire.'  We  learn  from  this,  two  things.  First,  that 
death  and  hell  will  deliver  up  the  dead  that  are  in 
them ;  and  second,  that  death  and  hell  will  be  cast  into 
the  lake  of  fire.  So  they  could  not  be  the  same  place, 
could  they?" 

''No,"  Stanley  said  thoughtfully;  "hell  could  not  be 
cast  into  itself.  Not  unless  there  w^ere  two  hells." 
Then,  after  a  moment's  thought,  "Do  you  regard  this 
lake  of  fire  as  a  literal  lake  of  fire?" 

"I  don't  know,"  Alfred  answered.  "That  is  one  of 
the  questions  I  cannot  answer  with  any  degree  of  cer- 
tainty. Some  who  are  considered  good  authority  be- 
lieve it  to  be  a  real,  literal  lake  of  fire.  Others  con^ 
sider  it  figurative.  One  thought  which  comes  to  me 
is  this :  fire,  literal  fire,  is  of  a  material  nature  and  acts 
upon  material  things.  Now  death  and  hell  are  not  ma- 
terial things ;  they  are  conditions.  We  are  also  told  that 
this  lake  of  fire  was  prepared  for  the  Devil  and  his 
angels.  The  Devil  and  at  least  a  part  of  his  angels  are 
spiritual  beings,  consequently  they  could  not  be  acted 
upon  by  a  material  fire.  So  I  cannot  see  how  it  could  be 
a  literal  fire.  However,  it  is  a  condition  I  never  want  to 
test  personally.  I  am  willing  to  let  the  Devil  and  his 
angels  test  than  condition  alone,  so  far  as  I  am  con- 
cerned." 

Stanley  gazed  intently  out  to  where  he  knew  the 
path  ended.  "Do  you  think,"  he  asked,  "that  anyone 
besides  the  Devil  and  his  angels  will  have  to  go  there?" 


116  .  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

"Yes,"  Alfred  answered.  ''I'm  afraid  so.  We  read 
that  the  sons  of  perdition  must  go  there — they  who 
have  not  their  names  written  in  the  Lamb's  book  of 
life." 

''How,  then,  can  Christ  be  the  Savior  of  all  men,  as 
you  read  from  the  Bible  he  w^ould  be  ? "  Stanley  asked. 

' '  Christ  will  have  saved  them  once, ' '  Alfred  an- 
swered, abstractedly  pulling  pieces  of  bark  from  the 
limb  on  which  he  sat.  "He  will  still  have  been  their 
Savior.  That  is  where  the  sin  against  the  Holy  Ghost 
comes  in,  in  the  passages  of  scripture  you  read  first. 
If,  after  they  have  accepted  Christ  and  tasted  the  good 
gift  of  Go^,  they  then  turn  and  deny,  I  can  find  no  hope 
of  a  second  salvation  for  them  in  the  Scriptures." 

Stanley  pondered  the  question  a  moment,  gazing  into 
the  blackness  of  the  leaves  above  them.  "I  don't 
know,"  he  said  finally,  "that  they  deserve  one." 

"You  see,  it  is  like  this,"  Alfred  went  on.  "The 
Lord  has  made  us  a  promise  that  if  any  man  will  do  the 
will  of  the  Father,  he  shall  know  of  the  dodtrine.  Now, 
when  that  promise  has  been  verified  and  any  man  has 
been  given,  not  a  belief  but  a  knowledge,  that  Jesus 
is  the  Christ,  the  Savior;  if,  regardless  of  that  knowl- 
edge, he  deliberately  denies  the  message  the  Holy  Ghost 
has  given  him,  he  has  no  further  claim  on  Christ  and 
must  go  down  with  the  Devil  and  his  angels  to  whose 
level  he  has  fallen.  However,  I  believe  that  number  in 
the  world's  history  has  been  very  few." 

"Do  you  think,"  Stanley  asked  again,  "that  the 
spirits  of  those  who  are  kept  in  that  hell  which  you  call 
the  prison  house  suffer  greatly  before  Christ  comes  to 
them  with  his  message?" 


TREE   HEARS   STRANGE   THINGS  117 

''I  can't  tell  you  that,"  Alfred  answered,  ''although 
I  am  inclined  to  think  it  will  depend  on  the  individual. 
There  is  a  passage  of  scripture  which  says,  'Thou  hast 
delivered  my  soul  from  the  lowest  hell.'  Now,  lowest 
hell  suggests  that  there  must  be  other  hells  not  quite 
so  low.  In  other  words,  degrees  of  hell.  I  don't  know 
how  many  of  those  degrees  there  may  be,  but  I  can 
easily  believe  that  a  very  wicked  man  would  suffer 
more  than  one  not  so  wicked,  can't  you?  The  condem- 
nation of  his  own  conscience  would  make  his  punish- 
ment worse." 

"Yes,  I  would  think  so,"  his  companion  answered. 

For  a  while  no  sound  was  heard  among  the  trees  of 
the  grove.  Each  man  was  busy  with  his  own  thoughts. 
Presently  Stanley  leaned  forward  and  laid  his  hand  on 
his  friend's  shoulder. 

' '  Do  you  know  what  you  said  to  me  about  there  being 
a  God?"  he  asked.  "You  told  me  not  to  worry;  that 
question  would  settle  itself.  Well,  that  happened  to- 
night while  you  were  talking.  I  don't  know  how  it 
came  about,  but  all  at  once  I  seemed  to  know  that  there 
is  a  God.  I  have  tried  in  the  past  to  figure  him  out, 
tried  to  account  for  him  scientifically,  but  I  just 
couldn't.  To-night  I  felt  within  myself  that  it  was 
true.    I  think  father  felt  the  same  way." 

"Of  course  you  couldn't  figure  him  out,"  Alfred  an- 
swered gently.  "No  man  can.  It  is  impossible  to 
know  God  unless  he  reveals  himself.  After  all,  what 
is  any  knowledge  but  revelation?  Take  your  knowl- 
edge of  the  existence  of  this  tree,  for  instance.  What 
is  that  knowledge  but  a  revelation  given  you  by  the 


118  THE   CALL  AT   EVENING 

senses  of  sight  and  touch?  This  tree  existed  one  hour 
ago,  yet  the  knowledge  of  it  had  not  yet  been  revealed 
to  me  through  the  means  the  Creator  has  designed  for 
such  revelation  to  reach  me.  It  was  the  same  with  you 
in  regard  to  God.  He  existed,  but  the  knowledge  of 
his  existence  had  not  yet  been  revealed  to  you.  This 
is  the  way  it  occurs  to  me. 

''  'Man,'  I  mean  the  thinking  principle,  that  entity  we 
call  'I,'  is  a  spiritual  being,  full  and  complete.  Now  that 
spiritual  being  is  living  here  on  a  physical  plane,,  com- 
ing in  contact  with  things  of  a  physical  or  material 
nature.  In  order  that  we  may  do  that  to  the  very 
greatest  advantage,  God  has  clothed  us  with  a  physical 
body,  corresponding  to  our  surroundings,  through 
which  revelation  of  physical  things  may  reach  us. 
That  is  why  God  pronounced  man  good  when  he  had 
created  him.  He  was  truly  complete,  equipped  both  to 
receive  revelation  (knowledge)  of  things  spiritual  and 
things  physical :  spiritual,  through  the  spirit ;  physical, 
through  the  body.  Now  if  we  try  to  receive  revelations 
of  spiritual  things  through  the  means  God  has  planned 
for  us  to  receive  revelations  of  physical  things,  we  will 
be  disappointed.  That  is  what  the  world  tries  to  do. 
They  don't  w^ant  God  to  reveal  himself  through  the 
proper  channel,  the  spirit;  that  is  too  old-fashioned. 
They  want  him  to  reveal  himself  only  through  physical 
things :  trees,  flowers,  etc. ;  overlooking  the  fact  that 
only  evidence,  not  knowledge,  can  come  that  way. 
True,  evidence  is  important,  but  it  is  only  a  means  to 
an  end.  Evidence  brings  belief.  Revelation  brings 
knowledge,  and  Christ  has  promised  that  we  shall 
know." 


TREE   HEARS   STRANGE   THINGS  119 

*'I  can't  tell  you  how  anxious  I  am  to  learn,"  Stan- 
ley said.  ''There  seems  to  be  such  a  store  of  things  I 
don't  know." 

They  talked  long,  and  perhaps  if  we  knew,  the  old 
tree  rejoiced  to  hear  truth  as  old  as  Nature  herself, 
because  they  talked  of  Nature's  God.  The  moon  over 
the  hill  peeped  cautiously,  grew  bolder,  looked  again, 
then  slowly  came  into  view  and  cast  a  halo  of  beauty 
over  all  the  world. 


CHAPTER  13 
AN  AWAKENING 

JOHN  BENNETT  did  not  awaken,  but  slept  the  heavy 
sleep  of  the  drunkard  throughout  the  remainder  of 
the  night  and  all  the  day  following.  As  night  drew 
near  he  stirred  fitfully,  murmured,  slept  again.  His  wife 
Mary  watched  wearily  but  patiently  beside  the  stricken 
child.  She  left  her  post  gratefully,  most  gratefully,  to 
partake  of  the  breakfast  which  Aunt  Sophronia  had 
brought  for  her  and  Joey,  while  that  lady  took  her 
place  at  the  bedside. 

Aunt  Sophronia  cast  frequent  and  disgusted  glances 
at  the  degraded  heap  of  manhood  on  the  bed  across  the 
room,  and  ejaculated  scornfully,  ''Law  me!"  but  when 
Mary  Bennett  had  returned  once  more  from  the  kitchen, 
Aunt  Sophronia 's  face  had  resumed  its  placid  impene- 
trable expression  of  kindliness.  Aunt  Sophronia  was 
not  a  talker.  Few  words  passed  her  lips,  but  many 
deeds  of  kindness  had  left  their  impress  on  her  soul. 

Late  in  the  afternoon,  when  Doctor  Lakeman  called 
on  his  round  of  visits,  he  found  his  aunt  at  the  bedside 
of  the  child  while  the  mother  slept. 

''This  is  fine  of  you,  Aunt  Sophronia,"  Stanley  said, 
approvingly.  "Mrs.  Bennett  needs  the  rest  badly.  She 
will  need  to  be  up  much  of  the  night  again  to-night." 

"Ah,"  he  continued,  as  he  sank  into  the  chair  his 
aunt  had  just  vacated,  and  looked  into  the  face  of  the 


AN  AWAKENING  121 

child.  ''This  is  more  like  it.  She  looks  mxich  better. 
She'll  get  along  all  right  now,  with  careful  nursing." 

''What  would  you  do,  aunt,"  Stanley  looked  up 
from  his  work  a  moment  later,  a  gleam  of  mischief  in 
his  eyes,  "if  that  gentleman  there  would  awaken 
while  you  are  here  alone?" 

' '  Gentleman ! ' '  The  word  fairly  exploded  from  Aunt 
Sophronia's  lips.  "If  that  animal  over  there  wakes  up 
while  I'm  here,  I'll  see  that  it  behaves  itself." 

■Stanley  laughed  silently.  His  aunt  looked  indeed 
capable  of  carrying  out  her  threat.  ' '  Well,  it  will  not 
be  necessary,"  her  nephew  responded.  "The  medicine 
I  gave  him  will  keep  him  sleeping  until  morning,  I 
think.  Tell  Mrs.  Bennett  to  get  all  the  rest  she  can 
herself  during  the  night.  Tell  her  also  if  the  child  is 
sleeping  not  to  arouse  her  for  the  medicine.  The  sleep 
will  do  her  more  good  noAV.  I  have  several  other  calls 
to  make,"  he  added,  as  he  prepared  to  leave.  "Father 
will  get  supper  if  you  don't  get  home  in  time,  so  don't 
worry.     Stay  here  as  long  as  you  are  needed." 

"I'll  do  that,"  his  aunt  returned.  "You  tell  your 
pa  not  to  use  the  milk  in  that  dark  crock.  I  want 
that." 

"All  right,"  Stanley  laughed  as  he  went  out.  He 
knew  some  delicacy  was  in  store  for  them. 

So  the  day  wore  on.  The  coming  of  night  did  not 
seem  so  terrible  to  Mary  Bennett  as  it  had  the  night 
before,  for  new  friends  had  come  to  share  her  burdens 
with  her  and  life  seemed  much  less  dreadful.  When 
Aunt  Sophronia  left  she  had  taken  Joey  with  her.  The 
little  lad  sat  beside  her,  prim  and  happy  in  his  pros- 


122  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

pect  for  a  ride.  He  rolled  his  eyes  triumphantly  to 
his  mother  in  the  doorway  when  Aunt  Sophronia  placed 
the  lines  in  his  hands  and  told  him  to  "drive."  When 
they  had  gone,  Mary  Bennett  took  up  her  duties  with 
a  lighter  heart  than  she  had  known  for  many  days. 

Throughout  the  night  the  child  slept  peacefully, 
arousing  only  at  intervals,  at  which  times  the  mother 
gave  her  the  medicine  as  the  doctor  had  directed,  and 
soothed  her  again  into  sleep.  As  morning  drew  near 
she  looked  at  her  mother  with  a  light  of  recognition  in 
her  eyes  and  the  sweet  baby  smile  on  her  lips.  The 
small  white  hand  reached  out  and  found  a  resting  place 
on  her  mother's  face.  Thus  morning  found  them 
wrapped  in  the  deep  sleep  of  physical  exhaustion. 

As  the  first  rays  of  the  sun  stole  through  the  muslin 
curtain,  leaving  its  patch  of  light  on  the  cabin  floor,  the 
figure  on  the  bed  in  the  opposite  corner  stirred.  A  mo- 
ment la,ter  a  deep  groan  evidenced  the  fact  that  John 
Bennett  was  awake.  He  lay  quietly  for  a  moment  and 
then  cautiously  tried  to  lift  his  head  from  the  pillow. 
Another  groan  issued  from  his  lips  and  his  head  fell 
back  helplessly;  his  face  was  white  with  suffering. 
Several  minutes  passed.  He  tried  once  more  to  raise 
himself  on  his  elbow,  this  time  with  better  success, 
although  he  buried  his  face  in  his  hands  as  though  to 
hide  from  himself  the  pain  each  movement  caused. 

''Oh,  Lord!"  he  muttered  when  he  made  an  effort  to 
regain  his  feet.  He  leaned  against  the  wall  and  buried 
his  head  in  his  arms.  After  a  moment,  still  pressing 
his  head  between  his  hands,  he  staggered  to  the  rock- 
ing-chair in  the  center  of  the  room  and  sank  weakly 
into  it. 


AN  AWAKENING  123 

When  Mary  Bennett  aroused  from  her  slumbers,  per- 
haps an  hour  later,  she  found  him  there,  his  entire  at- 
titude expressive  of  utter  dejection.  She  arose  cau- 
tiously and  went  to  his  side. 

"John,''  she  said  gently. 

A  groan  was  her  only  answer.  ''John,"  she  said 
again,  laying  her  hand  on  his  shoulder. 

''For  God's  sake,  Mary,  don't  touch  me,"  he  said. 
"I  don't  see  how  you  can." 

A  shadow  of  pain  crossed  her  face.  She  knew  the 
awful  depth  of  remorse  which  always  followed  his  de- 
bauchery— remorse  which  left  him  only  when  he  re- 
turned once  more  into  the  terrible  grasp  of  that  which 
was  dragging  him  down.  And  she  was  helpless.  All 
she  could  do  was  to  stand  by  and  see  him  slip  from 
her,  see  him  slip  down  to  the  awful  depths  from  which 
there  seems  no  hope  of  return.  Several  times  she  re- 
membered he  had  tried  to  put  it  from  him.  There  had 
been  short  seasons  of  hope — hope  that  after  all  life 
might  once  more  take  on  some  of  the  brightness  which 
had  characterized  her  earlier  married  life.  But  always 
there  had  come  a  time  when  her  hope  had  been  dashed 
from  her,  and  he  had  sunk  back  into  deeper  depths  than 
he  had  known  before,  until  hope  had  died.  In  her 
heart  now  there  was  no  hope.  She  only  waited — waited 
for  the  end. 

The  next  few  hours  were  intolerable.  Vainly  she 
tried  to  encourage  him,  tried  to  lift  him  from  the 
depths  of  depression  as  she  had  tried  many  times  be- 
fore, but  to  no  avail.  With  the  clear  vision  of  a  sober 
mind  he  could  comprehend  all  too  plainly  the  extent  of 


124  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

his  fall  and  its  dreadful  effect  upon  those  he  loved. 

At  noontime  she  left  him  and  prepared  in  the  kitchen 
all  that  remained  of  the  provisions  Aunt  Sophronia  had 
brought  the  day  before.  He  looked  at  the  dish  sus- 
piciously. ''Mary/'  he  asked,  "where  did  you  get 
that?" 

''Friends  brought  it  yesterday,  John."  She  an- 
swered him  as  she  would  have  answered  a  sick  child. 
"You  will  eat,  now,  won't  you?  It  will  steady  your 
nerves.    Really,  John " 

He  pushed  the  plate  from  him. 

"Has  it  come  to  that,  Mary?  Isn't  there  anything 
to  eat  in  the  house  except  what  people  bring  in?" 

There  was  a  new  note  in  his  voice.  She  dared  not  tell 
him  other  than  the  truth,  yet  she  shrank  from  adding 
to  his  weight  of  misery. 

"Why  don't  you  tell  me,  Mary?  Why  don't  you 
answer?"  he  insisted. 

"Yes,  John,"  she  said  finalTy.  "This  is  all  we  have 
to  eat,  but  some  way  will  open  before  us,  surely.  Some- 
thing must." 

"And,  Mary,"  he  continued  in  a  quiet,  even  tone,  un- 
naturally quiet  and  even.  His  wife  was  frightened.  "I 
suppose  you  know  that  mj^  money  is  gone.  Yesterday 
was  pay  day." 

"I — I  thought  it  would  be,"  she  said,  so  low  he 
could  scarcely  hear  the  words.  For  a  time  they  were 
quiet,  thinking. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  now,  Mary?"  he  asked. 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,  John,"  she  answered  him,  her 
voice  breaking.  "Something  will  turn  up.  Surely '* 


AN  AWAKENING  125 

''Mary."  That  awful,  quiet,  even  tone  turned  her 
cold  with  fear,  a  fear  for  which  she  could  not  account. 
*'If  it  were  not  for  me  you  could  get  help.  No  one 
will  help  you  with  a  drunken  husband  about." 

''Oh,  John,"  his  wife  begged  through  her  tears,  "I 
don't  want  to  talk  about  it  any  more  now.  Later,  when 
you  are  feeling  better  and  I  am  stronger,  we  will  talk 
again.  I  want  you  to  eat  this  now.  You  need  it, 
John." 

Again  he  pushed  the  plate  from  him  with  a  shudder. 
"Take  it  away,  Mary,"  he  begged.  "I  don't  want  to 
see  it." 

With  saddened  heart  she  disappeared  once  more  into 
the  kitchen  where  she  set  the  plate  on  the  table  and 
stepped  through  the  door  into  the  open  air.  When  she 
realized  that  she  was  no  longer  under  the  watchful  eye 
of  her  husband  she  ran  lightly  down  the  path  and  dis- 
appeared among  the  trees.  There  seemed  to  be  no 
path,  but  she  wound  in  and  out  among  the  bushes  and 
finally  came  to  a  little  clearing  just  beside  the  lake, 
only  a  few  feet  in  diameter,  but  surrounded  on  all  sides 
by  a  dense  growth  of  willows.  Here,  in  utter  seclu- 
sion she  sank  in  the  soft  bed  of  mosses  and  wept  bit- 
terly. After  a  time,  once  more  strengthened,  she  rose 
to  her  knees  and  lifted  her  heart  to  God  in  prayer. 
And  while  she  prayed,  could  she  have  seen  the  shap- 
ing of  events  in  her  own  home,  her  faith  would  have 
failed,  and  she  would  have  thought  indeed  that  God 
had  forsaken  her. 


CHAPTER  14 
A  SUDDEN  CHANGE  OF  PLAN 

NO  SOONER  had  Mary  Bennett  left  the  room  in 
which  her  husband  had  been  seated  than  he  arose 
from  his  chair,  crossed  the  room,  and  softly  closed 
and  bolted  the  door  leading  to  the  kitchen.  This  precau- 
tion was  unnecessary,  had  he  only  known,  for  his  wife 
had  already  left  the  house.  Very  quickly  now,  he  crossed 
the  room  and  lifted  the  curtain  which  fell  over  the  box 
in  the  corner ;  and  took  from  it  a  short  black  pistol.  He 
examined  it  minutely,  seemed  satisfied  with  the  loading, 
and  slipped  it  into  the  bosom  of  his  shirt.  Then  he 
picked  up  his  battered  hat  and  went  out. 

John  Bennett  followed  the  trail  leading  to  the  high- 
way, crossed  the  road,  and  plunged  into  the  forest  on 
the  opposite  side.  Here,  after  walking  a  short  distance 
among  the  trees,  he  came  to  a  little  ravine,  veering 
slightly  to  the  south.  This  he  knew  would  lead  him 
into  the  thickest  part  of  the  forest. 

Without  once  pausing  he  walked  on  until  he  had 
covered  nearly  a  mile,  then  crossing  a  brooklet  he 
climbed  a  slight  elevation  and,  entering  a  thicket,  was 
lost  to  view.  No  better  place  could  have  been  chosen 
for  his  purpose.  The  woods  were  deep  and  quiet.  The 
very  deadness  of  the  quietude  seemed  to  suggest  that 
civilization  was  far  removed.  Here,  in  a  natural  in- 
cisure, seated  on  the  log  of  a  fallen  tree,  John  Ben- 


A  SUDDEN  CHANGE  OF  PLAN        127 

nett  drew  from  its  resting  place  the  weapon  he  had 
secreted.  The  sudden  snapping  of  a  twig  in  the  dead 
silence  of  the  place  made  him  start  guiltil,y,  but  in  an- 
other moment  he  had  learned  the  cause,  as  a  little 
brown  squirrel  ran  into  view.  When  it  spied  him,  it 
stopped  suddenly  in  its  frolic,  eyed  him  suspiciously, 
and  then  scampered  off.  From  among  the  leaves  above 
his  head  a  blue  jay  watched  him  cautiously;  then  the 
whir  of  wings  announced  that  it  also  was  seeking  a 
safer  distance.  These  were  the  only  sounds  of  the  for- 
est. 

Satisfied  once  more  that  there  was  no  danger  of  de- 
tection, John  Bennett  lifted  the  weapon  and  placed  the 
muzzle  against  his  breast.  A  feeling  of  nausea  pos- 
sessed him.  Shaking  violently,  he  lowered  the  weapon 
once  more  and  his  face  turned  a  sickly  white. 

''This  won't  do,"  he  murmured  in  self-condemnation, 
while  the  muscles  of  his  face  set  in  fierce  determina- 
tion. He  raised  the  weapon  again,  this  time  holding  it 
from  him  almost  at  arm's  length.  He  shut  his  eyes 
that  he  might  not  see,  and  slowly  brought  his  thumb 
back  on  the  trigger. 

''What  on  earth!" 

The  bullet  went  wild.  The  weapon  had  been  forcibly 
knocked  from  his  fingers.  John  Bennett  gazed  in 
amazement  at  a  tall  young  man  with  flashing  blue  eyes 
and  a  crutch  in  his  hand,  who  stood  before  him. 

"Now  look  here,  stranger!"  the  young  man  said. 
•*'I  don't  know  you  or  what  kind  of  tomfoolery  you 
are  up  to,  but  it  seems  I  came  just  in  time.  Now  sup- 
pose you  tell  me  what  this  is  all  about.  Tell  me  what 
your  trouble  is." 


128  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

The  big  man  before  him  faltered  out  his  story.  Al- 
fred listened  gravely,  sympathetically,  as  the  story- ad- 
vanced. Finally  he  came  to  comprehend  that  this  man 
was  the  father  of  the  little  lad  that  had  interested  him 
so  much,  and  the  man  of  whom  Stanley  and  Aunt 
Sophronia  had  been  telling  him. 

It  was  the  same  old  story  of  a  useless  struggle  against 
the  awful,  burning  appetite  for  drink  which  always 
ended  in  failure.  Alfred  gathered  that  he  thought  his 
family  would  be  better  off  with  him  out  of  the  way. 

''Now  that  is  possibly  true,"  Alfred  said.  ''Your 
family  might  be  better  off  with  you  out  of  the  way  than 
to  have  you  with  them,  the  way  you  tell  me  you  have 
been  living.  But  that  is  not  the  point.  What  effect 
is  this  going  to  have  upon  your  boy?  Don't  you  think 
it  would  be  bad  enough  for  him  to  have  always  to  re- 
member that  his  father  was  a  drunkard  without  having 
the  additional  disgrace  of  his  becoming  a  suicide  as 
well?  Now  it  seems  to  me  that  the  thing  for  you  to 
do  is  to  brace  up.  Oh,  I  know  it's  hard."  He  cut  the 
other  off  as  he  saw  him  about  to  speak.  "And  I  don't 
care  how  many  times  you  have  tried  and  failed,  either. 
The  thing  for  you  to  do  is  to  brace  up."  He  repeated 
the  words  emphatically  as  he  took  a  seat  on  the  log  by 
the  other's  side.    "Say,"  he  asked  suddenly,  "do  you 

believe  in  Christ?" 

John  Bennett  looked  at  him  blankly  for  a  moment, 
and  then  said:  "Oh,  I  guess  so.  At  least  I  used  to 
when  I  was  a  boy." 

"Don't  you  now?" 


A  SUDDEN  CHANGE  OF  PLAN        129 

''Well,  I  guess  I  had  just  about  forgotten  all  about 
him." 

''Tell  me  what  you  know  about  him." 

"They  used  to  tell  us  in  Sunday  school  that  he  was 
the  Son  of  God  and  that  he  came  down  here  and  was 
killed." 

"Yes,"  Alfred  said,  "and  what  did  he  come  for?" 

"I  think  they  said  to  save  the  people."  The  wretch 
thought  a  moment  and  then  shook  his  head.  "But  that 
doesn't  mean  me,"  he  said.  "Christ  never  meant  to 
save  me.    I've  been  too  bad  for  that." 

"That's  just  where  you  are  mistaken,"  the  young 
man  answered  him.  "That  does  mean  you.  But  of 
course  if  you  won't  let  him,  he  can't  do  anything  for 
you.  That  is  the  reason  you  have  always  failed. 
You've  always  tried  by  yourself  to  quit  drinking.  You 
should  have  asked  Christ  to  help  you.  I  suppose  you 
have  not  offered  a  prayer  since  you  were  a  boy." 

"No,"  John  Bennett  answered.  "My  wife  sometimes 
prays,  but  I  can't  remember  that  I  ever  did." 

"Well,  will  you  kneel  down  here  now  and  let  me 
ask  God  to  help  you?" 

The  other  nodded.  Awkwardly  he  followed  Alfred's 
example  and  got  down  on  his  knees  beside  the  log. 
There,  far  removed  from  the  world  about  them,  where 
the  soft  breezes  whispered  through  the  trees  and  the 
birds  sang  unheeded,  Alfred  laid  the  matter  before  his 
God.  John  Bennett  was  astonished,  for  never  before 
had  he  heard  any  man  talk  to  God  as  to  a  friend ;  and 
the  verv  assurance  with  which  the  man  spoke  made  him 
feel  that  after  all  perhaps  there  was  a  God  who  cared. 


130  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

He  listened  as  Alfred  mentioned  how  this  man  beside 
him  had  tried  in  his  own  strength  to  put  from  his  life 
that  which  degraded  him ;  how  he  had  failed.  He  spoke 
of  the  family  whose  lives  were  one  long  scene  of  hard- 
ship and  privation  because  of  this  thing  which  had 
become  too  big  for  the  man,  and  asked  that  he  might 
have  help — help  from  the  Christ  whom  he  had  for- 
gotten, but  who  had  not  forgotten  him ;  help  from  the 
angels  who  are  ministering  spirits  to  minister  to  those 
who  dwell  upon  the  earth ;  help  from  the  Holy  Spirit  by 
whom  the  Father  drew  all  men  unto  Christ ;  asked  that 
he  might  as  a  servant  of  God  on  earth  be  permitted 
also  to  be  united  with  that  host  of  heaven  in  bringing 
about  the  salvation  of  this  soul.  And,  last  of  all,  he 
asked  that  the  man  might  help  himself,  help  himself 
with  all  the  strength  of  character  he  possessed. 

When  the  prayer  was  ended  John  Bennett  was  in 
tears.  He  had  felt  an  influence,  a  power  which  had 
accompanied  it,  quite  new  and  incomprehensible  to 
him. 

''Now,"  Alfred  said,  ''I  think  we  had  better  go 
home  and  tell  your  wife  about  it,  don't  you?" 

''Do  you  think  I  can  make  it,  sir?"  his  companion 
asked  doubtfully. 

"No,"  Alfred  answered  emphatically.  "You  can't. 
Not  alone.  You  can  do  your  best.  After  that,  trust 
Christ.    Will  you  try?" 

"Oh,  yes,  sir,"  the  man  answered  eagerly.  "I  will 
try." 

"Don't  forget  to  ask  God  to  help  you.  Don't  try  to 
do  it  alone,"  Alfred  said  as  they  moved  off  among  the 
trees. 


CHAPTER  15 
THE  EVENING  ATTENDANCE  GROWS 

DOCTOR  LAKEMAN  and  Spider  had  had  a  busy 
morning.  An  urgent  call  had  taken  them  several 
miles  into  the  country.  Noontide  found  them 
returning  along  the  highway  about  a  mile  from  the 
Turkey  Creek  bridge.  Spider,  flecked  with  foam,  can- 
tered wearily.  Stanley  removed  his  hat  and  wiped 
his  brow. 

Spider  swerved  slightly  from  the  center  of  the  road 
and,  brushing  unexpectedly  against  the  weeds  which 
framed  the  highway,  started  from  their  hiding  place 
droves  of  grasshoppers,  which  jumped  with  free  and 
easy  leaps  to  neighboring  weeds,  where  they  swung 
precariously  as  man  and  beast  passed  them  by. 

"Now  this  is  more  like  it,"  Stanley  murmured  as 
they  rode  under  the  shade  of  a  large  maple  tree  and 
stopped.  He  took  off  his  hat  and  fanned  himself. 
Spider  sleepily  drove  the  flies  from  her  back  with  a 
sweep  of  her  long,  black  tail,  lowered  her  head,  and 
seemed  to  sigh.  Stanley  laughed.  "Oh,  we're  not  sta- 
tioned here  for  the  afternoon,"  he  said.  "We  haven't 
had  dinner  yet." 

However,  so  great  is  the  power  of  suggestion,  that 
he  jumped  from  the  saddle  and  stretched  himself  luxu- 
riously on  the  soft  grasses  at  the  foot  of  the  tree, 
where   he   lay   dreamily   Avatching   a   band   of  insects 


132  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

swarming  in  the  sun.  After  a  while  he  bestirred  him- 
self, jumped  into  the  saddle,  and  urged  the  reluctant 
animal  once  more  into  the  heat  of  the  dust-laden  high- 
way, as  Spider  supposed,  homeward  bound. 

They  had  not  ridden  far  until  they  came  to  a  familiar 
trail  leading  from  the  highway.  Spider  recognized  that 
trail  and  knew  that  home  and  food  were  not  yet  to  be 
considered.  With  meekly  submissive  air  she  turned 
from  the  highway  and  cantered  up  to  the  little  cottage 
in  the  woods. 

''Spider,  you're  learning,"  Stanley  said  encourag- 
ingly.   ''You'll  make  a  doctor's  horse  yet." 

Spider  rubbed  her  nose  affectionately  upon  her  mas- 
ter's shoulder  as  he  dismounted  and  led  her  farther  into 
the  shade  of  the  trees. 

"There,  you  can  nibble  that  grass,"  he  said,  "while 
I  run  in  and  see  the  Bennett  child.  Thank  goodness 
there's  no  danger  here,  now." 

A  moment  later  Stanley  stood  in  the  cottage  door. 
"Why,  Mrs.  Bennett!"  he  exclaimed,  "what  is  the 
matter?" 

He  found  her  kneeling  before  a  box  in  the  corner, 
with  ghastly  face,  staring  blindly  into  space. 

"Mrs.  Bennett,"  he  said  again  when  she  did  not  an- 
swer. 

"Oh!"  She  staggered  to  her  feet.  "What  has  he 
done?" 

"What  has  who  done?"  he  asked.  "Try  to  tell  me 
calmly  what  has  happened.    Let  me  help  you." 

Mary  Bennett  leaned  against  the  wall  by  the  window, 
her  eyes  wide  with  horror.  Stanley  saw  her  again  bring 


THE  EVENING  ATTENDANCE  GROWS  133 

nerves  and  muscles  under  the  control  of  her  will.  When 
she  spoke  it  was  in  a  very  quiet  voice.  ''Doctor  Lake- 
man,  I'm  afraid  my  husband  has  killed  himself." 

"Oh,  surely  not.    Why  do  you  think  that?" 

Then  she  told  him  of  the  depths  of  remorse  into 
which  John  Bennett  sank  when  he  had  awakened  in  a 
sober  condition. 

' '  I  never  saw  him  like  he  was  this  morning, ' '  she  said. 
"He  seemed  almost  desperate.  But  I  thought  he  would 
just  go  off  and  drink  again  as  he  has  always  done,  to 
drown  his  own  remorse.  Oh,  I  don't  know  what  to  do." 
Her  voice  ended  alm'ost  in  a  wail. 

"What  makes  you  think  he  hasn't  just  gone  off  to 
drink  again?     Perhaps  he  has." 

Mary  Bennett  pointed  to  the  box  before  which  he  had 
found  her  kneeling. 

"The  gun  is  gone,"  she  said.  "And  I  found  the  door 
leading  to  the  kitchen  locked.  He  evidently  did  not 
want  me  to  come  into  the  room  until  after  he  had 
succeeded  in  getting  away." 

"Do  you  know  how  long  he  has  been  gone?"  Stanley 
asked. 

"I  can't  tell,"  she  answered.  "You  see  I  have  neg- 
lected much  of  my  work  since  baby  was  sick.  I  stopped 
to  water  my  flowers.  I  think  I  was  not  away  more 
than  half  an  hour.  He  probably  has  been  away  about 
that  time." 

"I  see,"  Stanley  said.  "Do  you  know  where  he 
would  be  most  likely  to  go?" 

"I  can't  tell  in  the  least,"  she  answered.  "Some- 
where in  the  woods,  I  suppose." 


134  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING* 

''I'll  see  what  I  can  do,"  he  said.  ''In  the  mean- 
time, try  to  think  you  might  be  mistaken.  Perhaps, 
after  all,  it  may  not  be  so  bad." 

Stanley  stepped  to  the  bedside  and  hastily  assured 
himself  that  all  was  well  with  the  child,  then  left  her 
with  the  promise  that  he  would  return  often  and  let 
her  know  how  the  search  progressed. 

"I  can't  think  it  will  be  so  bad,"  he  said  as  he  left 
her.  He  walked  first  to  the  lake  shore  and  carefully 
scanned  the  beach.  There  was  no  one  in  sight.  Then 
he  entered  the  thicket  just  north  of  the  cottage  and 
searched  carefully  all  the  stretch  of  forest  between  the 
lake  and  the  highway. 

Once  his  heart  almost  stopped  beating,  as,  standing 
on  the  decayed  trunk  of  a  fallen  tree,  he  caught  a 
glimpse  of  an  old  coat  lying  near  a  clump  of  bushes 
a  little  to  the  left.  A  closer  examination  showed  that 
the  garment  had  lain  long  in  that  spot,  almost  falling 
to  pieces  as  he  endeavored  to  lift  it.  With  a  sigh  of 
relief  he  once  more  resumed  his  search.  Finally,  hav- 
ing satisfied  himself  that  John  Bennett  had  not  visited 
that  part  of  the  woods,  he  returned  to  the  cottage. 

"Have  you  heard  anything?"  he  asked  Mrs.  Bennett, 
who  stood  in  the  doorway. 

"Nothing,"  she  replied.    "I  was — oh,  listen!" 

They  were  not  mistaken.  Voices  were  plainly  dis- 
cernible along  the  path.  Stanley  turned  to  the  woman 
in  the  doorway,  a  question  in  his  eyes,  but  she  was  look- 
ing intently  at  the  point  where  the  trail  opened  to 
their  view. 

The  voices  were  heard  again.     Stanley  saw  the  face 


THE  EVENING  ATTENDANCE  GROWS  135 

of  the  woman  light  up  with  gladness  and  knew  that  she 
had  recognized  one  of  the  voices  as  that  of  her  hus- 
band. Then  came  the  reaction.  Her  face  took  on  once 
more  that  indescribably  weary  look.  The  shoulders 
seemed  to  droop  with  weariness  and  she  steadied  her- 
self by  holding  to  the  doorcasing,  but  with  it  all  came 
the  old  brave  smile. 

''It  is  just  another  of  the  experiences  which  seem 
to  belong  to  life,  I  think,  doctor,"  she  said. 

It  was  now  Stanley  who  seemed  almost  startled  when 
his  eyes  fell  on  the  pair  who  suddenly  came  into  view. 
An  exclamation  of  surprise  fell  from  his  lips  as  he  rec- 
ognized John  Bennett's  companion.  Alfred  raised  his 
hand  in  greeting  to  Stanley  as  they  drew  near.  John 
Bennett  came  forward  with  hanging  head,  not  daring  to 
meet  his  wife's  gaze.  The  woman  left  her  position  at 
the  door  and  went  forward  to  meet  them. 

''Oh,  John!"  she  said,  "you  have  given  me  such  a 
fright.  Doctor  Lakeman  has  been  searching  for  you. 
I  thought — "  The  voice  ended.  She  could  not  bring 
herself  to  say  the  words. 

"I  found  your  husband  in  the  woods,"  Alfred  said. 
"He  seemed  to  be  troubled.  We  have  had  a  long  talk, 
he  and  I.  We  thought  we  would  come  and  talk  mat- 
ters over  with  you.  Mr.  Bennett  has  decided,  with  the 
help  of  God,  to  lay  aside  the  thing  which  has  caused 
so  muoh  of  his  trouble  and  yours ;  has  decided  to  begin 
again.     I  am  right,  am  I  not,  Mr.  Bennett?" 

John  Bennett  nodded,  but  still  did  not  look  up. 
Shame  for  all  the  wrongs  of  his  life  seemed  to  weigh 
him  down.    Mary  Bennett's  eyes  filled  with  tears.  Her 


136  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

experiences  of  the  past  lessened  her  faith  in  his  ability 
to  carry  out  his  resolves,  yet  the  pity  of  it  all  welled 
up  in  her  heart.  She  dared  not  trust  her  voice,  but  laid 
her  hand  gently  on  her  husband's  arm.  Stanley 
stepped  forward  and  held  out  his  hand  to  John  Bennett. 

''Shake  hands,  Mr.  Bennett,"  he  said.  ''It  will  be 
a  hard  fight,  but  I  believe  you  can  win  out.  I  hope 
you  will  let  us  be  your  friends." 

John  Bennett  gave  the  doctor  his  hand,  and  for  the 
first  time  lifted  his  eyes.  Stanley  did  not  know  that 
his  greatest  fear  lay  in  the  fact  that  he  had  no  friends 
other  than  those  who  were  ready  to  drag  him  down — 
none  to  help  him.  Thus  gratitude  for  the  offer  of 
friendship  lighted  his  eyes,  and  for  a  moment  they 
seemed  to  lose  something  of  their  deadness  and  take  on 
once  more  their  luster  of  life.  In  that  moment  Stanley 
realized  that  John  Bennett  had  been  a  handsome  man; 
knew  that  submerged  beneath  the  ravages  of  drink 
were  the  remnants  of  what  might  have  been  a  splendid 
specimen  of  manhood.  Stanley  glanced  at  Alfred  and 
read  in  the  expression  of  his  face  that  the  reassembling 
and  reasserting  of  that  manhood  was  the  work  he 
hoped  to  accomplish.    It  seemed  a  big  undertaking. 

When  the  young  man  left  them  two  hours  later,  much 
had  been  explained  and  much  encouragement  given. 
John  Bennett  had  arranged  to  return  to  his  work  and 
Stanley  had  attended  to  the  providing  of  provisions  to 
last  them  through  the  week  which  was  to  follow,  when 
John  Bennett  would  again  receive  his  wage. 

"That  will  be  the  danger  point,"  Stanley  said  to 
Alfred  when  they  were  alone. 


THE  EVENING  ATTENDANCE  GROWS  137 

*'Yes,"  Alfred  returned,  a  troubled  look  on  his  face. 
''It  will  be  a  hard  pull." 

They  walked  a  short  distance  in  silence,  Stanley  lead- 
ing Spider,  who  could  not  understand  why  dinner 
should  be  so  much  delayed.  Finally  Alfred  spoke 
again. 

''I  have  taken  the  liberty  to  ask  him  to  come  over 
this  evening  and  study  with  us.  Do  you  mind?  He 
asked. 

"Just  the  thing!"  Stanley  exclaimed.  "That  will 
fill  up  his  evenings.  I'm  so  glad  you  thought  to  do  it. 
I  wish  Mrs.  Bennett  could  come,  too,  but  she  can't  leave 
the  baby,  of  course." 

' '  I  think  I  will  call  and  talk  to  her  occasionally, ' '  Al- 
fred said.  ' '  1  like  to  teach  the  gospel  to  those  who  have 
so  little  of  brightness  in  their  lives.  I  always  think  it 
is  such  as  she  in  whom  Christ  must  be  especially  in- 
terested. 'Weary  and  heavy  laden' — doesn't  that  seem 
to  fit  her?" 

"Couldn't  describe  her  better,"  Stanley  returned 
earnestly. 

And  so  it  came  about  that  John  Bennett  was  added  to 
the  little  group  who  studied  beneath  the  honeysuckle, 
and  that  his  wife  daily  looked  forward  to  the  coming  of 
the  light-haired  stranger  who  thereafter  always  ac- 
companied Doctor  Lakeman  on  his  visits,  and  who 
taught  her  the  "way  of  life"  more  perfectly. 


CHAPTER  16 
PUTTING  THE  MAP  TOGETHER 

WELL,  I'm  not  so  sure  of  that,"  Bill  Lake- 
man  said.  "I've  never  had  so  very  much 
faith  in  God  myself.  What  little  I've  got 
trom  you  the  last  few  evenings  just  about  represents 
the  sum  total  of  all  the  faith  I  ever  have  had.  Accord- 
ing to  that  passage  of  scripture,  I'm  afraid  my  chances 
will  be  slim  after  all." 

Alfred  laughed  good-naturedly.  "You've  forgotten, 
Mr.  Lakeman,"  he  said,  "that  faith  cometh  'by  hear- 
ing.' Now  according  to  your  own  statement,  I  don't 
think  you  have  heard  a  great  deal  about  the  plan  of 
salvation,  so  you  cannot  expect  to  have  a  great  deal 
of  faith.  Larson  has  said:  'In  the  acquiring  of  truth 
we  must  begin  by  unfolding  the  truth  we  already 
possess.'  So  it  is  with  faith.  To  gain  more  faith  we 
must  begin  by  adding  to  that  which  we  already  have, 
no  matter  how  little  or  undeveloped  that  faith  may  be. 
No  two  persons  can  start  the  acquirement  of  faith 
from  exactly  the  same  point.  We  must  each  start  by 
building  upon  our  own  foundation. 

"One  sacred  writer  has  gone  back  to  the  beginning 
of  the  matter  and  has  said,  'If  we  only  have  a  desire  for 
faith,  if  we  will  nourish  that  desire  it  will  take  root 
and  grow  until  it  will  become  faith.'  So  we  see  that 
in  our  advances  toward  God  we  may  have  a  very  small 


PUTTING  THE  MAP  TOGETHER  139 

starting  point,  but  if  we  only  have  a  desire  to  learn 
of  him  and  use  that  desire  as  a  starting  point,  we  may 
obtain  a  knowledge  of  him.  No  greater  hindrance  to 
progress  can  exist  than  the  disposition  to  try  to  imitate 
the  understanding  or  development  of  another.  So 
you  need  not  worry  because  your  faith  over  night  has 
not  grown  into  something  wonderfully  strong.  I  have 
very  little  faith  in  this  'get-religion-quick'  theory.  It 
too  often  works  out  like  the  *  get-rich-quick'  business; 
that  is,  it  doesn't  work  out.  The  Lord  had  a  better 
plan.  He  said,  'Line  upon  line,  precept  upon  precept; 
here  a  little  and  there  a  little. '  That  plan  runs  through- 
out all  his  works.  This  honeysuckle,  for  instance :  It 
grew.  Constantly  adding  to  that  which  it  already  had, 
it  has  become  strong  and  beautiful.  It  did  not  just 
spring  up.  The  trees  in  the  grove  there  have  acquired 
their  stature  in  the  same  way:  gradual  growth.  It 
is  one  of  the  supreme  laws  of  God,  yet  in  his  spiritual 
world  they  would  have  us  disregard  it  entirely.  Paul 
has  said,  'Grow  in  grace  and  in  the  knowledge  of  our 
Lord.'  " 

With  the  coming  of  evening  the  little  group  had 
gathered  once  more  beneath  the  honeysuckle.  The 
soft  breeze  of  evening  stealing  up  from  the  creek 
reached  them,  bringing  with  it  the  fragrance  of  flowers. 
The  birds  still  twittered  among  the  trees  of  the  grove, 
contending  with  each  other  as  they  sought  their  rest. 
Far  below  the  melody  of  many  voices  arose  from  the 
regions  of  the  swamp  and  mingled  with  the  subdued 
murmur  of  the  innumerable  species  of  the  insect  world 
homeward  bound,  the  activities  of  another  day  past. 


140  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

''Then  you  do  not  believe  that  we  become  the  chil- 
dren of  Grod  by  belief  in  Christ?"  Jennie  raised  her 
eyes  incredulously  to  Alfred. 

''Belief  in  Christ  is  absolutely  necessary  to  become 
children  of  God,"  he  answered.  "There  is  no  other 
name  given  whereby  man  can  be  saved.  But  I  some- 
times think  we  are  quite  as  much  mixed  on  the  subject 
of  belief  in  Christ  as  we  are  on  many  other  subjects. 
Belief  in  Christ  means  more  than  merely  assenting  to 
the  fact  that  Jesus  is  the  Christ.  Merely  believing  that 
fact  will  not  bring  salvation.  Christ  gave  us  to  under- 
stand that  the  devils  believed,  but  it  did  not  bring  them 
salvation.  Christ  came  into  the  world  and  instituted  a 
plan  whereby  men  might,  through  obedience  to  this 
plan,  become  the  sons  of  God.  A  true  belief  in  Christ 
means  not  only  assenting  to,  but  applying  the  plan 
Christ  instituted." 

"That  reminds  me,"  Bill  Lakeman  commented,  "of 
a  little  talk  I  had  with  Silas  Perkins  this  afternoon. 
I  uiidertook  to  tell  him  that  I  did  not  agree  with 
Squire  Parsons 's  policy  in  the  State  legislature.  'What!' 
he  said.  'Don't  you  believe  in  Squire  Parsons?'  I  told 
him  I  didn't  believe  in  any  man  whose  policy  would 
mean  so  much  indebtedness  with  such  a  small  return." 

"That's  the  thought  exactly,"  Alfred  said.  "To  be- 
lieve in  a  man  means  also  to  believe  in  his  policy  or 
plan.  To-night,  if  it  is  agreeable  to  you  all,  I  would 
like  to  take  up  the  study  of  the  plan  Christ  gave,  that 
we  might  become  the  sons  of  God  and  joint  heirs  with 
Christ." 


PUTTING  THE  MAP  TOGETHER  141 

''That  suits  me,"  Stanley  said,  the  others  also  assent- 
ing.   Alfred  continued: 

"Now  I  have  here  a  sheet  of  paper  for  each  of  us, 
and  a  pencil.  You  will  see  that  I  have  written  at  the 
top  of  each  the  question:  'What  must  I  do  to  be 
saved?'  It  will  be  our  object  to-night  to  answer  that 
question,  at  least  in  part." 

"I've  heard  that  question  answered  from  the  pulpit 
a  thousand  times,"  Bill  Lakeman  broke  in.  "That's 
all  the  preachers  know  how  to  preach  about  in  this 
town." 

"I'm  inclined  to  think,  Mr.  Lakeman,"  Alfred  re- 
turned, an  amused  smile  playing  about  his  lips,  "that 
there  is  just  where  the  trouble  lies.  "You've  heard  it 
answered  'from  the  pulpit.'  I  am  glad  to  say  we  are 
not  answering  questions  'from  the  pulpit'  to-night." 

"Oh,  Stewart!"  Stanle}^  said  jestingly,  "I'm  afraid 
some  of  these  reverend  gentlemen  would  think  you 
were  a  more  dreadful  infidel  than  they  have  thought 
either  father  or  I." 

"I  haven't  the  least  doubt  of  it,"  Alfred  answered. 
"In  that  respect  I  am  something  like  the  Apostle  Paul: 
'After  the  manner  which  ye  call  heresy,  so  worship  I 
the  God  of  my  fathers.'  "  After  a  moment  he  con- 
tinued: "Well,  as  we  are  not  going  to  answer  our 
question  from  the  pulpit,  What  must  I  do  to  be  saved, 
suppose  we  try  to  find  the  answer  in  the  Bible.  Miss 
Burnside,  you  will  find  one  of  the  requirements  neces- 
sary in  Acts  17:31." 

Jennie  read:  "  'Believe  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ, 
and  thou  shalt  be  saved,  and  thy  house.'  '* 

"Now,  Stanley,  read  Romans  5:1." 


142  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

**  'Therefore,  being  justified  by  faith,  we  have  peace 
with  God,  through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.'  " 

**Now  we  have  learned  that  belief  or  faith  is  our 
first  answer.  Let's  put  it  down  on  our  paper.  First, 
belief  or  faith  in  Christ." 

''That  answers  your  question,  doesn't  it?  What's 
the  use  of  going  any  farther?"  Bill  Lakeman  asked, 
a  telltale  sparkle  in  his  eyes,  but  a  very  serious  ex- 
pression on  his  face.  If  he  had  expected  to  disconcert 
Alfred,  he  was  mistaken.  Smilingly  ignoring  his 
question,  that  young  man  turned  to  Aunt  Sophronia 
and  asked :    ' '  Miss  Lakeman,  how  do  you  make  bread  ? ' ' 

"Why,  I  take  some  flour " 

"Ah,  we  have  learned,"  Alfred  interrupted  her, 
leaning  back  and  sighing  with  satisfaction,  "how  to 
make  bread.  We  will  take  some  flour  and  rest  in  the 
enjoyment  of  the  anticipation  of  the  splendid  bread 
we  will  have,  using  that  one  ingredient,  which  will  bb 
entirely  sufficient." 

Aunt  Sophronia  grunted.  "It's  fine  bread  you  would 
have,"  she  said.  "Not  even  my  pigs  would  eat  it,  let 
alone  Bill  and  Stanley." 

The  party  laughed  heartily,  but  Alfred  was  suddenly 
serious.  It  impressed  him  as  truly  sad  that  such  obvious 
truths  of  the  physical  world  should  be  so  easily  under- 
stood and  accepted,  while  the  same  truths  of  the  spir- 
itual world  should  be  so  little  known. 

"It  is  equally  true,"  he  said,  "that  we  cannot  obtain 
the  great  salvation  without  using  Christ's  entire 
recipe. ' ' 

Bill  Lakeman  nodded  approval.     Alfred  paused  a 


PUTTING  THE  MAP  TOGETHER  143 

moment,  waiting  for  further  questions,  then  continued : 
''Mr.  Lakeman,  will  you  read  Acts  2:38?" 

"  'Then  Peter  said  unto  them,'  "  he  read,  "  'Repent, 
and  be  baptized  every  one  of  you  in  the  name  of  Jesus 
Christ  for  the  remission  of  sins,  and  ye  shall  receive 
the  gift  of  the  Holy  Ghost.'  " 

' '  Now,  Miss  Lakeman,  will  you  turn  to  Acts  17 :  30 
for  us?" 

"  'And  the  times  of  this  ignorance  God  winked  at; 
but  now  commandeth  all  men  everywhere  to  repent.'  " 

"We  find  one  thing  especially  emphasized  in  these 
verses.    What  is  it?" 

"That  we  should  repent,  is  it  not?"  Jennie  asked. 

"That  we  should  repent,"  Alfred  repeated.  "Now 
we  can  write  on  our  papers:  Second,  repent.  We 
have  now  two  answers  to  our  question,  What  must 
I  do  to  be  saved :  Have  faith  or  belief  in  Christ ;  and 
repent.    Which  do  you  think  we  should  accept?" 

"Well,  I'd  take  them  both  or  I  wouldn't  take  either," 
the  old  man  said,  emphatically.  "IVe  seen  too  much 
of  this  accepting  just  a  part  of  the  Bible." 

"Certainly,"  Alfred  said.  "It's  just  as  sensible  to 
think  of  making  our  bread  out  of  flour  alone,  as  it  is 
to  try  to  apply  just  one,  any  one,  of  the  parts  of  the 
plan  Christ  has  given.  Now,  what  next?  Did  you 
notice,  Mr.  Lakeman,  that  something  else  seemed  to 
go  with  the  repentance  mentioned  in  the  verse  you  read? 
Will  you  look  at  it  again?" 

"It  says  repent  and  be  baptized." 

"All  right.  Now,  Mr.  Bennett,  will  you  see  if  we 
can  find  confirmation  of  that  thought  in  Mark  16: 16?" 


144  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING* 

John  Bennett  looked  through  his  Bible  and  back 
again,  and  glanced  helplessly  at  Alfred.  Jennie,  per- 
ceiving his  trouble,  reached  for  his  book  and  helped 
him  find  the  place.  When  it  was  found,  he  read  with 
ease. 

'*  'He  that  believeth  and  is  baptized  shall  be  saved.*  '' 

' '  Now,  what  is  our  third  requisite  ? ' ' 

''Baptism,"  Stanley  said. 

"My  church  has  always  taught  me  that  baptism 
wasn't  really  necessary  to  being  saved.  Of  course  one 
could  be  baptized  if  he  really  wished  to  be,  but  it  was 
not  really  essential  to  salvation."  Jennie  advanced 
the  objection  timidly.  Bill  Lakeman  and  Stanley  ex- 
changed glances.  They  were  curious  to  know  how  their 
guest  would  answer  her. 

"Yes,  I  know  that  is  a  popular  teaching,"  Alfred 
said.  "Perhaps  we  had  better  stop  and  examine  it  for 
a  while.  There  is  a  thought  in  Revelation  22 :  19.  Miss 
Burnside,  will  you  read  it?" 

Jennie /ead:  "  'And  if  any  man  shall  take  away 
from  the  words  of  the  book  of  this  prophecy,  G-od  shall 
take  away  his  part  out  of  the  book  of  life,  and  out  of 
the  holy  city,  and  from  the  things  which  are  written 
in  this  book.'  " 

Jennie  looked  puzzled.  She  did  not  see  the  applica- 
tion. 

"Now,  Mr.  Lakeman,  will  you  read  Deuteronomy 
12:32?" 

"  'What  thing  soever  I  command  you,  observe  to 
do  it:  thou  shalt  not  add  thereto  nor  diminish  from 
it.'" 


PUTTING  THE  MAP  TOGETHER  145 

**  These  two  passages  of  scripture  tell  us  how  the 
Lord  feels  toward  any  person  who  takes  away  from 
his  commandments.  Now  let  us  see.  Stanley,  will  you 
read  Acts  10:48?" 

**  'And  he  commanded  them  to  be  baptized  in  the 
name  of  the  Lord.'  " 

"This,"  Alfred  went  on,  ''in  connection  with  Peter's 
answer  to  the  question,  'What  shall  we  do?'  when  he 
said,  'Repent  and  be  baptized,'  seems  quite  emphatic 
to  me.  I  challenge  the  right  of  any  man  or  set  of  men 
to  take  from  these  commandments.  So  I  think,  Miss 
Burnside,  that  when  your  church  or  its  pastors  taught 
you  that  baptism  was  not  essential,  they  were  guilty 
of  'taking  from'  the  commandments  of  God,  and  must 
come  under  his  condemnation." 

"Whew!  That's  pretty  strong!"  Stanley  said. 

"No  stronger  than  the  Bible,"  Alfred  answered. 
"No  man  has  the  right  to  change  the  plan  of  Grod." 

"I  think  you  are  right,"  Bill  Lakeman  said.  "Per- 
haps if  men  had  not  made  so  free  trying  to  make  over 
the  gospel  of  Christ  to  suit  themselves,  there  wouldn't 
be  so  many  different  churches  in  the  world,  nor  so 
many  infidels,  either.  So  much  religious  confusion  is 
enough  to  puzzle  any  man." 

"Well,"  Alfred  said  laughing,  "we'll  just  put 
baptism  down  on  our  papers,  anyhow.  There  are  no 
preachers  here  to  tell  us  not  to,  and  Christ  thought 
it  was  necessary.  Third,  baptism.  There  we  have  it 
now.  What  is  baptism?  Miss  Lakeman,  will  you  read 
Matthew  3:11?" 

Aunt  Sophronia  hastily  readjusted  her  glasses  and 


146  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING* 

read:  ''  *I  indeed  baptize  you  with  water  unto  re- 
pentance: but  he  that  cometh  after  me.  .  .  he  shall 
baptize  you  with  the  Holy  Ghost  and  with  fire.'  " 

''John  seemed  to  have  in  mind,"  Alfred  continued, 
' '  two  divisions  of  baptism — that  of  water  and  the  Holy 
Ghost.  Now,  let's  see  what  else  we  can  find.  Mr.  Lake- 
man,  will  you  read  John  3:5?" 

*'  'Verilj^,  verily,  I  say  unto  thee,  Except  a  man  be 
born  of  water  and  of  the  Spirit,  he  cannot  enter  into 
the  kingdom  of  God.'  " 

''Christ  has  the  same  thought.  Baptism  of  water  and 
Spirit.  Thus  we  see  that  baptism  is  twofold.  Now,  on 
our  papers,  after  our  word  'baptism,'  let  us  place  a 
brace  and  make  two  divisions:  a.  Water;  b.  Spirit. 
We  now  have  on  our  papers  the  following  outline  as 
a  result  of  our  investigation : 

"  'What  must  I  do  to  be  saved? 

"  '1.  Have  faith. 
2.  Repent. 

a.  By  water. 

b.  By  Spirit.^ 
"Does  that  agree  with  what  we  all  have?    All  right. 

Now  we  will  investigate  more  fully  our  first  division — 
by  water.  How  do  we  get  it?  Mr.  Bennett,  will  you 
read  Matthew  3:16?" 

When  Jennie  had  again  found  the  place  John  Bennett 
read:  "  'And  Jesus,  when  he  was  baptized,  went  up 
straightway  out  of  the  water.'  " 

"Now,  Miss  Burnside,  we  would  like  to  hear  Acts 
8:38,  39." 

"  'And  he  commanded  the  chariot  to  stand  still:  and 


'3.  Be  baptized.  ] 


PUTTING  THE  MAP  TOGETHER  147 

they  went  down  both  into  the  water,  both  Philip  and 
the  eunuch;  and  he  baptized  him.  And  when  they 
were  come  up  out  of  the  water,  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord 
caught  away  Philip.'  " 

''From  these  verses,"  Alfred  continued,  ''we  learn 
that  both  the  one  baptizing  and  the  one  to  be  baptized 
go  down  into  the  water.  So  that  is  point  one  under 
how  it  is  performed — agoing  down  into  the  water.  Now 
for  point  two.    Stanley,  will  you  read  Romans  6:4,  5?" 

"  'Therefore  are  we  buried  with  him  by  baptism  into 
death ;  that  like  as  Christ  was  raised  up  from  the  dead 
by  the  glory  of  the  Father,  even  so  we  also  shall  walk 
in  newness  of  life.  For  if  we  have  been  planted  to- 
gether in  the  likeness  of  his  death,  we  shall  be  also  in 
the  likeness  of  his  resurrection.'  " 

"These  verses  give  us  points  two  and  three:  Point 
two,  burial ;  point  three,  planting.  We  must  be  buried 
or  planted  in  the  likeness  of  the  death  and  resur  ^ction 
from  the  dead." 

"Well,  my  baptism  wasn't  much  like  that,  I  can  tell 
you,"  Aunt  Sophronia  spoke  up,  looking  over  the  top 
of  her  glasses.  "Three  drops  went  on  my  head  and  one 
on  each  shoulder." 

"That  wasn't  much  of  a  burial,  was  it?"  Alfred 
laughed. 

"No,  nor  planting,  either,"  Bill  Lakeman  said.  "I'd 
like  to  see  the  looks  of  my  crop  if  I  undertook  to  plant 
corn  that  way." 

"Yes,  and  I  don't  think  I  would  like  to  be  the  health 
officer  if  we  buried  people  that  way,"  supplemented 
Stanley. 


148  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

*'Is  that  why  we  are  immersed,"  Jennie  asked,  ''be- 
cause the  Bible  says  we  are  to  be  buried  with  Christ? 
I  never  thought  to  ask  why  we  were  immersed  when 
I  was  baptized." 

''That  is  the  reason,"  Alfred  answered.  "You  see 
we  have  just  found  out  from  the  Bible  that  both  the 
candidate  and  the  one  performing  the  rite  of  baptism 
go  down  into  the  water.  Then  the  Bible  says  we  are 
buried  or  planted ;  it  speaks  also  of  coming  up  out  of  the 
water.  Another  place  likens  baptism  to  a  birth.  So 
you  see  immersion  is  the  only  way  that  is  in  harmony 
with  the  Bible."  Alfred  paused  a  moment  thinking. 
"Those  things  are  not  taught  clearly  enough,"  he  con- 
tinued. "Even  the  churches  which  practice  baptism 
seem  to  be  afraid  to  explain  it,  fearing  some  one  will 
think  they  are  teaching  doctrine.  I  dare  say,  Miss 
Bumside,  your  pastor  did  not  even  tell  you  why  you 
were  baptized." 

"Why,  no,"  Jennie  answered,  "I  don't  think  he  did. 
You  see  after  we  thought  our  sins  had  been  forgiven 
we  were  baptized,  just  to  show  that  we  were  willing  to 
obey,    I  think." 

"If  it  were  not  such  a  serious  question,"  Alfred  said, 
"I  think  I  should  find  the  teachings  of  the  world 
along  religious  lines  sometimes  positively  funny.  .  They 
place  Christ  in  the  same  position  as  an  unwise  mother 
I  once  knew.  Her  son,  Bobbie,  obeyed  her  implicitly. 
No  matter  what  she  asked  him  to  do,  he  went  immedi- 
ately and  tried  to  do  that  thing.  Now  that  was  all 
very  fine,  for  Bobbie  had  great  confidence  in  his  mother ; 


PUTTING  THE  MAP  TOGETHER  149 

but  the  time  came  when  the  mother  was  so  proud  of 
her  boy's  obedience  that  she  began  to  try  to  show  him 
off  when  company  came.  At  first  the  boy  was  puzzled. 
What  object  could  be  back  of  some  of  his  mother's 
commands?  He  obeyed,  but  a  question  was  settling  it- 
self in  his  brain.  Then,  one  day  the  boy  understood: 
his  mother  was  just  showing  off  his  obedience.  The 
following  day  Bobbie  and  his  friends  were  engaged 
in  a  very  important  game  of  ball.  Three  boys  were 
on  bases  and  Bobbie  at  the  bat.  Bobbie  must  win  that 
game.  Company  came,  Bobbie's  mother  came  to  the 
door.  'Bob-ee.'  The  call  rang  out  clearly  over  the 
field.  Bobbie  threw  down  his  bat  and  went  to  the 
house.  The  game  was  lost.  When  Bobbie  reached  his 
mother's  side  she  only  said,  'Oh,  I've  changed  my 
mind.  I  don't  want  you  now,  dear,  you  can  go  back 
to  your  game. '  Bobbie  never  again  obeyed  unquestion- 
ingly. 

''Now  is  Christ  like  that?  Does  he  try  to  show  off 
our  willingness  to  obey  him?  or  is  there  a  reason  for, 
a  something  to  be  accomplished  by,  obedience  to  his 
commands?  Did  Christ  place  the  ordinance  of  baptism 
in  his  church  just  to  see  if  he  could  make  us  get  wet 
in  our  efforts  toward  blind  obedience?  I  can't  think 
Christ  is  like  that.  No,  he  tells  us  why — tells  us  what 
is  accomplished  by  it.  Stanley,  will  you  read  Acts 
2:38?" 

"  'Then  Peter  said  unto  them,  Repent,  and  be  bap- 
tized every  one  of  you  in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ  for 
the  remission  of  sins,  and  ye  shall  receive  the  gift  of 
the  Holy  Ghost.'  " 


150  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING. 

''You  see  Peter  did  not  tell  them  to  be  baptized  be- 
cause 'they  thought  their  sins  were  already  remitted.' 
He  told  them  to  be  baptized  for  the  remission  of  sins. 
Now,  Mr.  Lakeman,  will  you  read  Mark  1:4?  We  will 
then  have  another  witness." 

' '  '  John  did  baptize  in  the  wilderness,  and  preach  the 
baptism  of  repentance  for  the  remission  of  sins.'  " 

"Now,  one  more,  Miss  Lakeman,  Acts  22:16." 

Aunt  Sophronia  read:  "  'And  now  why  tarriest 
thou?  Arise,  and  be  baptized,  and  wash  away  thy 
sins,  calling  on  the  name  of  the  Lord.'  " 

"Well,"  Bill  Lakeman  said  as  he  carefully  studied 
the  point  of  his  pencil,  "I  always  thought  the  Bible 
taught  that  it  was  the  blood  of  Christ  that  washed 
away  sins.  Now,  you've  got  it  here  that  it  is  baptism 
in  water.  I'll  declare,  I  don't  know  which  you  expect 
us  to  believe." 

"Both,"  Alfred  asserted  seriously;  "it  was  the  shed- 
ding of  Christ's  blood  that  brought  about  his  death. 
It  was  through  his  death  and  burial  that  the  bands  of 
death  were  broken  and  we  are  redeemed  from  the 
grave.  Paul  says  our  baptism  is  a  like  figure  of  the 
death,  burial,  and  resurrection  of  Christ.  So  you  see 
the  blood  of  Christ  cleansing  us  from  all  sin  and  bap- 
tism for  the  remission  of  sins  are  only  two  ways  of 
expressing  the  same  thing,  for  the  latter  typifies  the 
former,  'a  like  figure,'  as  Paul  puts  it.  Now,  let's 
examine  our  papers  once  more.  We  have  learned  that 
water  baptism  is  performed  by,  first,  going  down  into 
the  water;  second,  coming  up  out  of  the  water.  It  is 


PUTTING  THE  MAP  TOGETHER  151 

compared  to,  third,  burial ;  fourth,  planting  ;■  fifth,  birth. 
Now  on  our  papers  we  will  place  another  brace 
after  the  word  'water.'  In  this  brace  we  will 
make  two  divisions,  method  or  mode,  and  purpose 
or  object.  After  mode  we  will  place  the  five  points 
mentioned  above;  after  purpose,  the  words  'for  the 
remission  of  sins.'  We  may  look  from  one  end  of  the 
Bible  to  the  other  and  will  find  no  other  object 
given  for  baptism." 

"According  to  that,"  Jennie  said,  "our  sins  are  not 
forgiven  when  we  are  converted,  but  when  we  are 
baptized.  Then,  Mr.  Stewart,  why  do  we  go  to  the 
altar  and  why  do  they  pray  there  that  our  sins  may 
be  forgiven?  The  minister  told  me  when  I  was  con- 
verted to  stand  up  and  tell  them  that  my  sins  had  been 
forgiven. ' ' 

"I  know,"  Alfred  said.  "I  went  through  the  same 
experience  myself  once.  "When  I  was  only  a  child 
I  went  forward  at  a  revival  meeting.  The  minister 
told  me  to  get  up  and  tell  the  people  my  sins  were  for- 
given and  I  did  it  because  I  didn't  know  any  better. 
Afterwards,  when  I  began  to  study  the  Bible,  I  began 
to  see  the  lack  of  harmony.  I  discovered  that  was  not 
the  Bible  way.  In  the  Bible  I  could  not  find  a  record 
of  any  such  proceeding " 

* '  It  isn  't  there, ' '  Bill  Lakeman  interrupted.  '  *  There 's 
not  a  mourner's  bench  in  the  whole  Bible." 

"I  also  made  that  discovery,"  Alfred  continued. 
' '  When  I  did  so  I  was  puzzled ;  then  I  began  to  doubt. 
Afterward  I  learned  better.     Now  our  outline  reads: 


152 


THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 


WHAT  MUST  I  DO  TO  BE  SAVED? 


1.  Faith. 

2.  Repentance. 


3.  Baptism. 


Water 


Spirit 


Method 

or 
/Mode 


Object 


1.  Going  down  into. 

2.  Coming  up  out  of. 

3.  Planting. 

4.  Burial. 

5.  Birth. 

For  the  remission  of 
sins. 


''Now  we  are  ready  to  study  the  baptism  of  the 
Spirit.  We  will  follow  the  same  course.  First  we  will 
learn  how  or  what  ordinance  is  used,  and  why  it  is 
given." 

''That  baptism  of  the  Spirit  bothers  me,"  Stanley 
said.  "I  can't  get  that  through  my  head.  I  went  to 
a  revival  meeting  last  winter  where  they  said  they  had 
an  outpouring  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  I  thought  if  that 
was  a  baptism  of  the  Holy  Spirit  I  didn't  want  any  of 
it.  They  shouted,  jumped  up  on  their  seats,  one  woman 
lay  down  on  the  ground  and  rolled  around  awhile,  and 
finally  fainted.    It  didn't  look  good  to  me." 

' '  We  are  told  in  the  word  of  God, ' '  Alfred  answered, 
*'that  many  spirits  have  gone  out  into  the  world,  and 
we  are  commanded  to  try  the  spirits.  We  are  also  told 
that  the  Spirit  of  God  is  not  the  author  of  confusion. 
The  condition  you  mentioned  sounds  like  confusion  to 
me.  God  is  the  supreme  intellect  of  the  universe.  When 
we  begin  to  look  into  the  wonderful  harmony  of  all 


PUTTING  THE  MAP  TOGETHER  153 

things,  nature's  serenity  in  peace,  its  magnitude  in 
disturbance,  we  can  begin  to  comprehend  in  a  limited 
way  the  true  significance  of  that  intelligence.  Now, 
I  can't  imagine  that  wonderfully  intelligent  Being 
prompting  any  person  to  get  down  and  roll  on  the 
ground.    The  very  thought  is  repellent  to  intelligence. ' ' 

''Do  I  understand  you,"  Bill  Lakeman  asked,  'Ho 
say  that  all  this  supposed  baptism  of  the  Spirit  which 
usually  accompanies  revival  services  is  a  spirit  of  the 
Devil?" 

''Not  necessarily,"  Alfred  answered.  "It  is  quite 
evident  to  me  that  the  Devil  is  working,  perhaps  to 
a  greater  extent  than  we  can  comprehend.  However, 
to  say  it  is  all  of  the  Devil  would  be  presumption.  I 
know  there  are  people  in  the  world  who  think  that 
whatever  is  not  of  God  is  of  the  Devil.  I  think  that 
is  just  as  misleading  as  many  other  half  truths  that 
are  in  the  world.  One  sacred  writer  has  ex- 
pressed a  more  sensible  view  of  the  matter.  He  gives 
us  to  understand  that  there  are  three  sources  from 
which  we  can  expect  such  things  to  come :  God,  man, 
and  the  Devil.  If  they  come  from  God,  they  will  be  in 
harmony  with  God's  law  and  we  will  thereby  know 
them.  If  they  come  from  man,  they  may  only  reflect 
the  state  of  his  nervous  system,  or  an  overdevelopment 
of  his  imaginative  powers.  If  they  come  from  the  Devil 
and  we  study  them  closely  enough,  we  will  discover  in 
them  that  which  leads  us  away  from  the  truth  or  entices 
us  to  do  evil.  I  think  those  are  the  two  great  objects  of 
Satan." 

"That  looks  reasonable  to  me,"    Bill  Lakeman  said. 


154  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING. 

''I've  seen  folks  get  nervous  enough  to  do  most  any- 
thing under  some  conditions." 

The  company  lapsed  into  silence.  Alfred  perceived 
that  they  were  ready  to  continue  their  study. 

''Well,  Miss  Burnside,"  he  said,  "suppose  you  start 
us  out  on  our  study  by  reading  Acts  8 :  17,  18.  We 
will  see  if  we  can  discover  how  the  baptism  of  the  Spirit 
is  received,  and  with  what  ordinance." 

"  'Then  laid  they  their  hands  on  them,  and  they  re- 
ceived the  Holy  Ghost.  And  when  Simon  saw  that 
through  the  laying  on  of  the  apostles'  hands  the  Holy 
Ghost  was  given,  he  offered  them  money.'  " 

"That  will  do,"  Alfred  said.  "Now,  Stanley,  read 
Acts  19:6." 

"  'And  when  Paul  had  laid  his  hands  upon  them, 
the  Holy  Ghost  came  on  them.'  " 

' '  What  are  you  driving  at,  young  man  ? ' '  Bill  Lake- 
man  asked.  "It  looks  to  me  like  you  are  breaking  into 
unexplored  territory. ' ' 

"I  can't  see,"  Jennie  spoke  up  timidly  "how  we  can 
have  the  Holy  Ghost  at  all  if  it  is  to  come  by  the  laying 
on  of  the  apostles'  hands.    There  are  no  apostles  now." 

"If  we  turn  to  1  Timothy  4 :  14, "  Alfred  answered, 
"we  will  learn  that  the  laying  on  of  hands  was  prac- 
ticed not  only  by  the  apostles,  but  by  the  presbytery 
of  the  church.  Also  in  the  ninth  chapter  of  Acts  we 
read  of  Ananias  who  was  not  an  apostle,  using  the 
ordinance  of  the  laying  on  of  hands.  The  fifth  chapter 
of  James  also  speaks  of  the  elders  as  using  it."    « 

"Well,   that's   a   new   one    on  me,"    Stanley   said. 


PUTTING  THE  MAP  TOGETHER  155 

*'None  of  the  presbytery  of  any  church  that  I  know 
anything  about  does  that." 

''That  may  be  the  reason,"  Alfred  answered,  smiling, 
''there  is  so  little  of  the  gift  of  the  Holy  Ghost  manifest 
in  the  world.  Perhaps  we  have  forsaken  the  law.  We 
are  trying  to  study  to-night  the  plan  which  Christ  left 
here.  It  seems  to  me  that  the  law  Christ  left  here 
should  be  here  to-day  as  he  left  it.  If  it  is  not,  some- 
body has  been  doing  some  changing.  We  have  already 
found  out  what  the  Lord  thinks  of  those  who  'take 
away'  anything  from  his  plans.  I  would  very  much 
prefer  not  to  be  one  of  them.  Now  on  our  papers,  after 
the  baptism  of  the  Spirit  we  can  place  the  words,  'By 
the  laying  on  of  hands.'  " 

"I'd  like  to  ask  you,"  Bill  Lakeman  said,  "if  Corne- 
lius had  hands  laid  on  him.  We  read  that  the  Holy 
Ghost  came  on  him,  but  I  don't  remember  it  saying 
anything  about  the  laying  on  of  hands." 

"We  will  need,"  Alfred  answered  him,  "to  dis- 
tinguish between  a  baptism  of  the  Spirit  which  is  given 
to  the  children  of  God,  those  who  have  named  his  name, 
and  the  Holy  Spirit  which  is  given  to  lead  men  t 
Christ.  We  are  told  that  the  Spirit  of  God  lightens 
every  man  who  comes  into  the  world.  We  also  read 
of  the  Spirit  of  God  striving  with  men  to  lead  them 
to  Christ,  but  that  is  quite  a  different  thing  from  the 
baptism  of  the  Spirit,  the  abiding  Comforter  which 
Christ  promised  to  send  to  those  who  believed.  We  will 
understand  that  fact  more  clearly  as  we  study  the 
fruits  of  the  Spirit.     Now  I  think  we  are  ready  to 


156  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

learn  the  object  of  the  baptism  of  the  Holy  Spirit. 
Mr.  Lakeman,  will  you  read  John  15:26?" 

''  'When  the  Comforter  is  come  whom  I  will  send 
unto  you  from  the  Father,  even  the  Spirit  of  truth, 
which  proceedeth  from  the  Father,  he  shall  testify  of 
me.'" 

"Now,  Miss  Lakeman,"  Alfred  continued,  ''will  you 
read  Acts  5:32?" 

"  'And  we  are  his  witnesses  of  these  things;  and  so 
is  also  the  Holy  Ghost,  whom  God  hath  given  to  them 
that  obey  him.'  " 

"These  two  verses  give  us  to  understand  that  one 
object  of  the  Holy  Spirit  is  to  bear  witness  of  Christ. 
So  that  will  be  object  number  one.  Let's  put  it  on 
our  papers:  To  bear  witness  of  Christ.  Now,  Mr. 
Bennett,  will  you  read  John  16: 13?" 

"  'Howbeit  when  he,  the  Spirit  of  truth,  is  come,  he 
will  guide  you  into  all  truth :  .  .  .  and  he  will  show  you 
things  to  come.'  " 

"Now  we  have  object  number  two:  'To  guide  into 
all  truth.'  Also  object  number  three:  'The  showing 
of  things  to  come.'  " 

"Why,  that  would  be  prophecy,  would  it  not?" 
Jennie  asked.  "We  can't  have  prophecy  now,  can 
w^e  ?    I  know  my  church  does  not  think  we  can. ' ' 

"Well,"  Alfred  said,  "that  was  one  of  its  missions 
when  it  was  first  given.  I  cannot  read  where  Christ 
ever  said  it  would  lose  its  power.  I  know  that  the 
world  teaches  now  that  the  days  of  prophecy  are 
past.  They  seem  to  think  that  the  Holy  Spirit  now 
can  only  guide  our  thoughts  (to  regard  it  as  a  worn- 


PUTTING.  THE  MAP  TOGETHER  157 

out  battery  which  needs  recharging),  but  it  was  not 
so  in  the  days  of  old,  and  it  is  not  so  now.  To  make 
that  claim  is  only  an  acknowledgment  that  the  baptism 
of  the  Spirit  has  never  been  received.  The  Spirit 
of  God  it  not  worn  out.  It  is  just  as  capable  and 
real  to-day  as  when  Christ  said,  'He  will  show  you 
things  to  come.'  " 

Unconsciously  the  speaker  let  his  own  earnestness 
vibrate  in  his  voice.  Bill  Lakeman  regarded  him 
narrowly,  questioningly.  '' Strange  !"  he  muttered  under 
his  breath.     "Strange!" 

Alfred  went  on:  ''Now  one  more  object,  number 
four.    Stanley,  will  you  read  Romans  8 :  14-16  ? ' ' 

"  'For  as  many  as  are  led  by  the  Spirit  of  God,  they 
are  the  sons  of  God.  .  .  .  The  Spirit  itself  beareth  wit- 
ness with  our  Spirit,  that  we  are  the  children  of  God.'  " 

"Then  the  fourth  object  is  that  we  may  know  that 
we  are  the  children  of  God.  Now,  let's  look  them  over 
again.  First,  the  Spirit  is  to  bear  witness  of  Christ. 
Second,  to  guide  into  all  truth.  Third,  to  show  things 
to  come.  Fourth,  as  a  witness  that  we  are  the  children 
of  God.  If  we  stop  to  think  deeply  what  each  one 
of  those  things  mean,  we  will  understand  how  im- 
portant it  it  for  us  to  have  that  Spirit." 

"What  I  want  to  know  is,"  Stanley  said,  "how  are 
we  to  know  when  we  get  that  Spirit?  I  can't  see  that 
from  the  verses  we  have  read." 

Alfred  turned  to  his  friend  in  response  to  his  query. 
'Stanley,"  he  said,  "you  saw  me  to-day  where  you 
"lad  no  thought  of  seeing  me.    How  did  you  know  me?'* 

"Well,"  Stanley  replied,  "that  crutch  had  a  very 


158  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

familiar  look,  but  I  think  it  was  more  the  way  you 
pushed  back  your  hat  and  talked  with  that  free  hand. 
It  wouldn't  take  a  Sherlock  Holmes  to  identify  you 
when  you  get  to  talking." 

Alfred  blushed  and  laughed  heartily  at  his  own  ex- 
pense. He  had  long  tried  to  overcome  that  tendency 
to  talk  with  his  hands,  but  he  would  forget  sometimes, 
in  his  most  earnest  moments. 

''Then,"  he  said,  "I  have  certain  characteristics  by 
which  you  may  know  me.  Now,  if  we  can  discover 
some  of  the  characteristics  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  perhaps 
we  may  learn  to  identify  it.  Let  us  all  turn  to  the 
twelfth  chapter  of  1  Corinthians.  In  the  fourth  verse 
we  find  these  words:  'Now  there  are  diversities  of 
gifts,  but  the  same  Spirit.'  In  verses  seven  to  ten: 
'But  the  manifestation  of  the  Spirit  is  given  to  every 
man  to  profit  withal.  For  to  one  is  given  by  the  Spirit 
the  word  of  wisdom ;  to  another  the  word  of  knowledge 
by  the  same  Spirit ;  to  another  faith  ...  to  another  the 
gifts  of  healing  ...  to  another  the  working  of  miracles ; 
to  another  prophecy;  to  another  discerning  of  spirits; 
to  another  divers  kinds  of  tongues;  to  another  the  in- 
terpretation of  tongues.'  Paul  goes  on  to  tell  us  that 
it  is  the  selfsame  Spirit  which  divides  to  every  man 
severally  as  he  will.  Now  I  think  it  is  safe  to  say  that 
as  God  is  unchangeable,  his  Spirit,  if  given  to-day, 
would  bestow  the  same  gifts  and  have  the  same  results 
as  when  Christ  was  here.  Now,  Mr.  Lakeman,  will  you 
read  Mark  16:17,  18?" 

When  Bill  Lakeman  turned  the  leaves  of  his  great 
Bible  to  the  place  directed,  Alfred  caught  a  glimpse 


PUTTING  THE  MAP  TOGETHER  159 

of  heavy  marks  around  the  verses.    Bill  Lakeman  had 
evidently  read  them  before. 

'*  'And  these  signs  shall  follow  them  that  believe: 
In  my  name  they  shall  cast  out  devils ;  they  shall  speak 
with  new  tongues;  they  shall  take  up  serpents;  and  if 
they  drink  any  deadly  thing,  it  shall  not  hurt  them; 
they  shall  lay  hands  on  the  sick  and  they  shall  re- 
cover.' " 

"Mr  Stewart,"  the  old  man  looked  up  from  his 
Bible  almost  sternly,  ''you  don't  pretend  to  believe  that, 
do  you?  Why,  I've  asked  a  dozen  preachers  if  those 
signs  followed  them  who  believed  their  teachings. 
They  all  said,  '  No,  that  was  not  intended  for  our  day ; 
that  is  done  away  with.'  I  told  them  that  I  guessed  in 
that  case  the  whole  thing  must  have  been  done  away 
with,  too.  I  never  expected  to  find  a  preacher  who  be- 
lieved those  verses." 

"Mr.  Lakeman,  I  would  like  to  ask  you  who  it  is 
that  those  verses  say  the  signs  are  to  follow?" 
"Them  that  believe." 

"Believe  what?" 

"In  Christ,  I  suppose." 

"We  have  already  agreed,"  Alfred  went  on,  "that 
a  belief  in  Christ  means  more  than  just  a  belief  that 
Christ  was  the  Son  of  God.  We  have  been  studying 
to-night  a  part  of  the  plan  Christ  came  here  to  set  in 
motion,  for  the  redemption  of  man.  True  belief  in 
him  means  a  belief  in  and  an  acceptance  of  the  princi- 
ples he  advocated,  a  compliance  with  his  plan  of 
redemption.  Anything  short  of  this  is  not  a  belief.  Con- 
sequently those  who  only  half  believe  are  not  entitled 
to  that  promise." 


160  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

''Do  you  know,  boy,"  Bill  Lakeman  said,  "that  you 
are  placing  a  whole  big  bunch  of  preachers  in  the  un- 
believing class?" 

''Well,  Mr.  Lakeman,"  Alfred  answered,  "when  you 
asked  those  preachers  that  question  and  received  the 
answer  you  did  from  them,  where  did  you  place  them?" 

Bill  Lakeman  laughed.  "Just  about  where  you  did, 
I  think,"  he  said. 

"Yes,"  Stanley  added,  "father  always  told  me  that 
about  the  only  difference  he  could  see  between  himself 
and  some  preachers  was  that  he  had  nerve  enough 
to  acknowledge  that  he  was  an  infidel  and  they 
didn't." 

"Now,  let  us  look  at  our  papers  once  more.  Do  they 
look  like   this?" 

WHAT   MUST   I   DO  TO   BE   SAVED? 

1.  Faith. 

2.  Repentance. 

!1.  Going  down  into. 
2.  Coming  up  out  of. 
3.  Planting. 
4.  Burial. 
5.  Birth. 

Object    -J   For  the  remission  of  sins. 

3.  Baptism. 

How        -j   Laying  on  of  hands. 

Snirit    J  (  ^'  Witness  of  Christ. 

2.  To  guide  into  all  truth. 
For         ^  3.  To  show  things  to  come. 
4.  Witness  that  we  are  the 
children  of  God. 


PUTTING  THE  MAP  TOGETHER  161 

''When  I  was  in  school,"  Alfred  went  on,  ''we  used 
to  do  sums  in  arithmetic,  but  we  never  handed  in  our 
papers  until  we  had  proven  our  answers.  So  I  think 
we  had  better  prove  our  answers  before  we  depend 
too  much  on  our  papers  to-night.  In  order  that  we  may 
do  that,  let  us  turn  to  Hebrews  6:1.  I  will  read ;  notice 
carefully:  'Therefore  leaving  the  principles,'  Stanley, 
what  do  you  understand  principles  to  be?" 

"Why,  a  principle  is  a  fundamental  law  or  truth, 
that  from  which  other  laws  or  truths  are  derived." 

"Very  good.  Now  notice  the  wording:  'Therefore 
leaving  the  principles  of  the  doctrine  of  Christ,  let  us 
go  on  unto  perfection;  not  laying  again  the  founda- 
tion.' We  see  by  this  that  Stanley  is  right,  that  there 
are  certain  fundamental  laws,  or  a  foundation.  Now 
let  us  see  what  it  is  'of  repentance  from  dead  works.' 
We  have  found  that  we  are  right  in  one  point.  Re- 
pentance is  a  part  of  the  principles  or  foundation. 
Let  us  check  it  on  our  papers,  'and  of  faith  toward 
God.'  Right  again.  We  may  check  faith  'and  the 
doctrine  of  baptisms.'  Now  we  may  check  our  bap- 
tisms of  water  and  Spirit,  'and  the  laying  on  of  hands.' 
Let  us  check  that.  So  we  are  right  so  far  as  our  study 
has  gone,  and  have  proven  our  answers." 

"Well,"  Bill  Lakeman  said,  his  head  on  one  side  as 
he  earnestly  regarded  the  paper  before  him,  "I  think 
that  sounds  all  right,  but  I'm  just  going  to  go  over 
that  again  to-morrow  myself.  I've  always  found  con- 
tradictions in  the  Bible;  I  can't  think  the  thing  really 
fits  together  so  well  as  that." 

Stanley  laughed   and   glanced   at   Alfred  who  had 


162  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

arisen  from  his  seat  in  a  manner  to  suggest  that  the 
study  was  ended  for  that  night. 

''What  is  the  matter,  father?"  he  asked.  ''Does  it 
begin  to  look  like  a  map  of  the  United  States?" 

"It  begins  to  look  like  a  map  of  something,"  Bill 
Lakeman  answered. 

Jennie  folded  her  paper  and  slipped  it  into  her  Bible. 
"I'm  like  Mr.  Lakeman,"  she  said.  "I  think  I  shall 
go  over  that  again  to-morrow.  I  took  all  the  references. 
I  want  to  be  sure  it  is  all  in  my  Bible  by  daylight," 
she  ended  as  she  smilingly  drew  on  her  riding  gloves. 

"You  don't  think  I  have  bewitched  your  Bible,  do 
you?"  Alfred  asked,  joining  in  her  pleasantry. 

"You  never  can  tell,"  she  called  back  as  she  tripped 
lightly  down  the  path  to  where  Daisy  stood  at  the 
stoop.  Alfred  gazed  after  her  dreamily.  So  great  was 
his  abstraction  that  he  did  not  hear  Stanley  speak  his 
name.  Bill  Lakeman  was  talking  to  John  Bennett  so 
he  did  not  hear  his  son  say,  with  a  peculiar  sparkle  in 
his  dark  eyes,  "I  don't  think  the  Bible  was  the  only 
thing  bewitched  to-night." 

Alfred's  return  to  consciousness  was  complete.  Blush- 
ing furiously,  he  dared  not  meet  his  friend's  scrutiny. 

"Never  mind,  old  man,"  Stanley  said,  laying  his 
hand  on  Alfred's  shoulder  and  striving  vainly  to  keep 
the  laughter  confined  to  his  eyes,  "when  I  have  an 
opportunity  I'll  tell  you  some  of  my  own  experiences 
along  those  lines." 

"She's  a  fine  girl,"  Alfred  ventured  timidly. 

"Sure  she  is,"  Stanley  agreed.  "There's  only  one 


PUTTING  THE  MAP  TOGETHER  163 

finer  in  all  the  world."  And  the  friends  laughed  in 
perfect  understanding. 

After  Jennie  had  ridden  away  Alfred  stood  at  the 
gate  and  talked  to  John  Bennett.  "Don't  give  up,"  he 
said  earnestly.     "You  can  win." 

"I'll  be  working  again  to-morrow,"  John  Bennett 
answered.  Then,  after  a  moment  he  asked  falteringly, 
"When  pay  night  comes  will  you  come  down  to  the  mill 
and  walk  home  with  me?    We  are  paid  each  Tuesday." 

' '  Why,  certainly  I  will, ' '  Alfred  returned.  '  *  We  can 
arrange  that  nicely." 

And  so  another  day  with  its  record  drifted  into  the 
labyrinth  of  the  past. 


CHAPTER  17 
AUNT  MARIA'S  FAITH 

WHEN  JENNIE  awoke  the  morning  following,  it 
was  with  a  lighter  heart  than  she  had  ex- 
perienced for  many  days.  She  sprang  from 
her  bed  with  a  song  on  her  lips,  and  a  few  minutes  later 
greeted  her  father  in  the  breakfast  room  with  such  a 
cheerful  countenance  that  that  gentleman  was  surprised 
out  of  some  of  his  stolidity  and  joked  heartily  with  his 
daughter. 

Aunt  Maria,  the  old  colored  family  servant,  entering 
with  a  tray  of  fruit  for  the  breakfast  table,  caught  sight 
of  Jennie  and  exclaimed  with  the  easy  familiarity  born 
of  long  and  faithful  service : 

''I  do  declar',  Mis'  Jennie.  Youse  lokin'  mighty  pert 
dis  morning.    I  do  beleeve  you  all  got  a  new  beau." 

''Now,  Aunt  Maria,"  Jennie  remonstrated,  ''you 
know  better.  Look  at  the  sunshine  out  there.  Just 
hear  how  glad  the  birds  are  this  morning.  Why 
shouldn't  I  look  pert?" 

"Well,  it  am  strange,"  the  old  woman  soliloquized, 
"how  much  gladder  the  birds  am  on  some  mornings 
than  they  am  on  others,  and  how  much  brighter  the 
sun  shines  on  some  sunshiny  mornings  than  it  do  on 
others." 

"Now,  Aunt  Maria,"  Jennie  laughed  reproachfully, 
"I'm  afraid  you  are  getting  deep." 


AUNT  MARIA'S  FAITH  165 

''I  was  going  to  tell  you  some  news,  Jennie,"  Marion 
Burnside  said,  ''but  perhaps  you  have  already  heard; 
maybe  that's  why  you're  glad." 

' '  No,  I  have  heard  no  news, ' '  Jennie  answered.  "  Is  it 
good  news?    Please  tell  me." 

"Very  good  news,"  her  father  responded,  "but  I 
think  I  will  not  tell  you  at  present. ' ' 

"Oh,  father,  do,"  Jennie  begged. 

But  Marion  Burnside  was  obdurate  and  Jennie 
pleaded  playfully,  but  in  vain. 

As  Marion  Burnside  arose  from  the  table  he  looked 
at  Jennie  seriously  from  under  his  heavy  brows. 

"If  you  will  come  down  to  the  office  to-day,"  he  said, 
"I  will  give  you  your  allowance.  I  think  you  will  be 
needing  some  gowns  soon." 

"Why,  father!"  Jennie  looked  up  in  surprise.  It 
was  the  first  time  since  she  could  remember  that  he  had 
made  a  suggestion  in  regard  to  her  wardrobe.  "I  don't 
think  I  need  a  thing.  Besides,  don't  you  think  you 
are  really  allowing  me  too  much?  I  don't  spend  it  all 
and  there  is  so  little  occasion  for  the  wearing  of  fine 
dresses  here  in  Leesburg.  It  almost  seems  a  waste  of 
money  to  buy  them." 

As  Jennie  spoke  she  arose  from  the  table  and  followed 
her  father  to  the  door. 

"Nevertheless,"  he  replied  with  a  tone  of  finality, 
as  he  drew  on  his  gloves  preparatory  to  leaving,  "I 
want  my  daughter  to  be  well  dressed." 

With  that  he  left  them.  Jennie  walked  into  her  own 
little  parlor  and  sank  thoughtfully  into  the  divan  by 
the  low  window.     She   was  puzzled.     Why  was   her 


166 


THE  CALL  AT  EVENINGI 


father  suddenly  so  anxious  about  the  matters  of  her 
dress?  He  had  never  even  hinted  before  that  he  was 
displeased  with  the  plainness  of  her  gowns.    She  glanced 


"De  (Jood  Book  say,  'God  is  love.'    I  know 
he  h'ars  my  pra'rs.    Dat's  enough  for  me." 

across  to  where  her  figure  was  reflected  in  the  large 
mirror  which  made  up  a  part  of  the  furnishings  of  the 
room,  and  seemed  to  impart  that  air  of  elegance  which 
was  the  pride  of  Marion  Burnside  's  heart.  She  studied 
carefully  the  trim  little  morning  dress  she  was  wearing. 
She  failed  to  note  that  it  brought  out  all  the  graceful 
curves  of  her  figure  or  that  the  arms  below  the  soft 
fullness  of  the  sleeves  looked  delightfully  well  rounded, 


AUNT  MARIA'S  FAITH  167 

and  she  did  not  see  that  the  folds  of  filmy  lace  which 
fell  back  from  her  throat  softened  her  features  and 
enhanced  the  delicate  fullness  of  her  neck.  She  only 
realized  that  it  was  such  a  dress  as  any  of  her  girl 
friends  could  afford  to  wear;  knew  that  it  carefully 
avoided  those  extremes  dictated  by  fashion  which  were 
so  abhorrent  to  her. 

''Oh,  well,"  she  said,  ''it's  just  one  of  father's  whims, 
he'll  soon  forget  it." 

"Aunt  Maria,"  Jennie  turned  from  the  contempla- 
tion of  her  reflection  in  the  mirror  as  the  old  lady  en- 
tered, "what  do  you  think  of  God?" 

"Law,  chile!"  Aunt  Maria  stopped  short  in  astonish- 
ment, "what  foh  you  ask  dat  question?  Don'  you  hear 
de  preacher  tell  all  'bout  him?" 

"I  know.  Aunt  Maria,"  Jennie  laughed.  "I  know 
what  the  preacher  says,  but  I  want  to  know  what  you 
think." 

"Now,  honey,"  the  old  woman  remonstrated,  "you 
know  yo'  ole  mammy  don'  understan'  all  dem  things. 
De  Good  Book  say,  'God  is  love.'  I  know  he  h'ars  my 
pra'rs.    Dat's  enough  for  me." 

"That's  just  it,  auntie;  you  asked  me  why  I  was  so 
glad  this  morning,"  Jennie  answered.  "It's  because  I've 
found  out  that  'God  is  love.'  I  have  never  understood 
that  before." 

After  a  moment's  quiet  thought  she  asked  suddenly: 

"Auntie,  do  you  believe  my  mother  is  in  hell?" 

"Yo'  mammy?  Why,  Mis'  Jennie!  What  God  send 
yo'  mammy  to  hell  for?  God  only  sends  the  wicked  to 
hell.     Yo'  mammy  war  not  wicked.     Don'  I  know? 


168  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING! 

Wa'n't  I  with  yo'  mammy  since  she  war  a  girl?  Don' 
yo'  go  an'  talk  dat  way  'bout  God." 

''I  know,  auntie;  I  know  now,"  the  girl  answered, 
' '  but  I  didn  't  know.    That 's  why  I  'm  glad. ' ' 

''Law,  chile."  The  old  woman  laid  her  hand  affection- 
ately on  Jennie's  head.  Memories  of  the  past  softened 
her  voice  to  infinite  sadness.  ''We  all  learn  'bout  Him 
through   suffering." 

"Did  you  learn -it  through  suffering,  auntie?" 

"Yes,  honey,  dis  po'  ole  heart  plum  broke  befo'  I 
learned  to  lay  my  burdens  on  de  Lord." 

Such  a  world  of  sadness  accompanied  the  words  of 
the  black  woman,  that  Jennie  felt  her  heart  melt  in 
sympathy.  She  remembered  Aunt  Maria  since  child- 
hood as  a  family  fixture.  She  had  scarcely  realized  that 
life  in  passing  had  left  its  light  of  joy  and  its  shadow 
of  sorrow  on  her  heart ;  and  that  it  was  a  very  human 
heart  which  beat  under  the  black  exterior. 

"Tell  me  about  it,  auntie,"  she  said  very  tenderly. 
Then  added  quickly,  "No,  don't  if  it  will  hurt  you  to 
do  so." 

"De  hurt  am  dere  anyhow,  chile,"  the  old  servant  an- 
swered. "Tellin'  don'  make  hit  no  worse.  Besides 
de  good  Lord  have  let  de  pain  grow  dull,  even  if  hit 
can't  be  taken  away.    Yes,  he  do  help  to  make  hit  dull." 

The  old  lady  was  silent  a  moment  and  then  went 
on  in  a  quiet,  even  tone : 

"Hit  begun  back  before  de  war,"  she  said.  "I  was 
sold  into  a  family  to  be  the  wife  of  another  slave." 

"Auntie!"  Jennie  exclaimed,  horror  ringing  in  her 


AUNT  MARIA'S  FAITH  169 

voice.    "Without  finding  out  if  you  were  willing?  Did 
they  force  you  to  marry?" 

"Law,  chile,"  the  old  woman  laughed  mirthlessly, 
"dey  didn't  ask  us  in  dem  days,  '-Am  you  willin'?'  But 
law,  honey,  I  loved  him  from  the  minute  I  set  eyes  on 
him,  an'  I  war  glad.  He  wasn't  none  of  dem  low- 
down  niggahs.  He  had  de  kindest  voice  I  ever  heard. 
An'  I  felt  like  my  troubles  war  over.  Dey  gin  us  a 
little  cabin  back  in  de  woods,  an'  Sam  he  worked  on 
ole  massa's  plantation. 

' '  Dem  war  de  happiest  days  ob  my  life,  honey.  Sam 
war  always  singin'.  I  kin  hear  his  voice  yet,  rollin' 
out  over  de  cotton  fields. 

"Ole  massa  war  always  smilin,'  an'  de  missus — " 
The  old  lady  shook  her  head.  "We  loved  'em,  honey, 
and  dey  war  mighty  good  to  us. 

"When  little  Sam  war  born,  law,  honey,  but  big  Sam 
war  proud.  'Little  Sam,'  dey  said,  looked  'jis  like  his 
pa,'  an'  big  Sam  sang  louder  dan  ever.  'Pears  like  he 
war  always  singin'  dem  days. 

"When  little  Sam  growed  older,  ole  massa  taught 
him  to  walk.  I  didn't  know  what  war  goin'  on,  for 
ole  massa  kept  him  over  at  de  big  house  mos'  all  de 
time,  but  I  warn't  worried. 

"One  evenin',  it  was  little  Sam's  birthday,  Sam  an' 
me  war  settin'  befo'  de  cabin  do',  Sam  a  pickin'  his 
banjo  an'  a-singin'.  Ole  massa  with  de  missus  come 
a-walkin'  up  with  little  Sam  in  his  arms. 

"  'Look,  Maria,'  ole  massa  said,  an'  he  set  little 
Sam  down  'bout  ten  feet  away  from  me. 

"  '  Go  to  yo '  mammy,  Sammy, '  de  missus  said. 


170  THE   CALL  AT  EVENINQ 

''An'  he  came  toddlin'  like  he  war  mighty  scared, 
but  walkin'  straight  to  me.  Hit  war  hard  to  tell  which 
war  de  proudest,  ole  massa  or  big  Sam. 

"De  missus  took  outen  a  little  box  she  war  a  carryin' 
in  her  han',  a  locket  an'  chain,  all  gold  an'  shiny,  an' 
fastened  hit  aroun'  his  neck.  I  war  mighty  proud,  den, 
for  none  of  de  odder  niggers  had  gold  chains  an'  lockets 
for  dere  babies.  Hit  had  his  name  engraved  on,  'Sam 
Turner,'  written  in  de  gold. 

"  'Maria,'  de  missus  said,  'dis  pickaninny  am  de 
light  ob  two  homes.' 

"So  de  time  went  by.  When  little  Sam  war  four 
years  ole,  his  daddy  taught  him  to  sing,  an'  dey  used 
to  set  in  de  evenin'  befo'  de  cabin  do'  an'  sing,  an* 
ole  massa  an'  de  missus  would  come  over  an'  listen. 

"Little  Sam  had  worn  a  trail  of  his  own  down  through 
de  cottonwoods,  across  de  brook  to  de  big  house. 

"Den  a  change  come.  One  mornin'  ole  massa  didn't 
get  up,  an'  befo'  night  de  missus  war  left  alone.  After 
dem  days,  big  Sam  didn't  sing  no  mo'  in  de  cotton 
fields,  an'  at  evenin'  he  would  sit  by  de  cabin  do'  with 
little  Sam  on  his  knee  an'  look  out  into  de  cottonwoods. 
One  evenin'  he  come  home  wid  his  eyes  lookin'  big 
an'  scared,  just  like  li'l  Sam  when  he  war  walkin'  to 
me  dat  day;  but  he  only  said  young  Massa  Charles 
war  a  comin'  home  to  help  his  mammy  run  de  planta- 
tion. Massa  Charles  had  run  away  from  home  years 
befo'  an'  nearly  broke  the  ole  folks 's  hearts.  I  didn't 
know  why,  but  I  felt  again  like  I  did  in  dem  days  befo* 
I  knew  Sam.  But  law,  honey,  I  knew  de  missus  would 
never  sell  one  of  us  offen  de  ole  plantation,  so  I  tried 


AUNT  MARIA'S  FAITH  171 

to  be  glad  an'  to  think  how  I  would  feel  if  hit  ^y3iv 
my  boy,  Sam,  a  comin'  home  after  all  dem  years.  Law, 
honey,  things  went  bad  enough;  but  Sam  an'  me  diden' 
say  anything,  fo'  de  missus'  sake,  not  even  when  Massa 
Charles  would  kick  li'l  Sam.  One  day,  when  li'l  Sam 
war  six  years  ole,  I  was  a  passin'  de  window  an' 
heard  Massa  Charles  say  to  de  missus,  and  he  war  a 
lookin'  at  li'l  Sam:  'Dis  place  needs  fixin'  up  mighty 
bad,  mother;  why  don'  you  sell  dat  boy?'  Law,  honey, 
I  nearly  drapped  the  crock  o'  milk  I  war  a  carryin'  to 
de  cellar,  and  I  thought  I  would  scream;  but  I  heard 
de  missus  answer  him:  ''I'll  never  do  hit,  Charles;  not 
one  of  them  shall  ever  be  sole  while  I  live. ' 

"Law,  honey,  in  all  dem  happy  years  I  had  nearly 
forgot  I  war  a  slave,  and  while  I  knew  de  missus  would 
keep  her  word,  de  old  fear  of  bein'  sole  would  come 
back,  an'  I  couldn't  keep  it  off.  Not  for  myself  or  big 
Sam,  I  knew  we  would  never  be  sole  offen  de  plantation. 
But  li'l  Sam,  oh,  I  would  a  heap  ruther  have  thought 
of  bein'  sole  myself.  But,  den,  de  missus  had  said  she 
would  never  sell  him,  so  I  tried  to  forget  it  an'  be 
cheerful  an'  happy  again.  I  knew  den  why  big  Sam 
never  sang  no  mo'  in  de  cotton  field,  an'  why  he  looked 
off  in  de  evenin's  at  de  cottonwoods. 

''One  day,  when  li'l  Sam  war  eight  years  ole,  I  war 
a  sittin'  by  de  cabin  do',  sewin'  on  some  things  fo' 
de  missus,  an'  a  waitin'  fo'  big  Sam  to  come  home  to  his 
supper.  Li'l  Sam  war  playin'  horse  with  a  stick  out 
under  de  maple  tree,  when  I  saw  big  Sam  come  hurryin' 
from  de  big  house,  takin'  li'l  Sam's  short  cut  through 
de  trees,  an'  I  knew  somethin'  war  wrong. 


172  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

**  'Maria,"  he  called  to  me,  'come  quick;  de  missus 
am  a  dyin'. 

*'I  drapped  my  sewin'  on  de  groun'  at  my  feet, 
steppin'  on  de 'white  muslin  as  I  went  over  it,  an* 
thinkin'  of  nuthin'  but  gettin'  to  de  missus.  But  it  war 
too  late.  De  missus  war  propped  up  in  Massa  Charles 's 
arms,  an'  a  drawin'  her  las'  breath.  I  could  see  her 
tryin'  to  say,  'Charles,  don't,'  but  dat  war  all.  We 
couldn't  understan'  no  mo',  and  she  war  gone.  Law, 
honey,  I  knew  what  dat  meant.  When  hit  war  over, 
Sam  an'  me  went  back  to  de  cabin.  Neither  of  visi 
spoke,  but  we  knew  our  hearts  war  broke. 

"You  kin  guess  de  res',  honey.  When  de  estate  war 
settled  up,  li'l  Sam  war  sole.  I  tol'  him  befo'  dey  took 
him  away,  to  hide  his  locket  in  de  groun'  or  anywhere 
to  keep  hit,  so  he  would  aways  know  his  name,  no 
matter  how  much  hit  might  be  changed.  If  dey  diden' 
kill  him,  I  s'pose  he's  somewhar  in  de  world  to-day. 
But  I  don'  ever  'spect  to  find  him.  Dat's  why  I  look 
forward  to  de  day  of  reunitin',  on  de  odder  shore." 

"Oh,  Auntie  Maria,"  Jennie  exclaimed,  "to  think 
I  have  lived  with  you  all  these  years  and  never  knew. 
How  selfish  I  have  been;  so  much  wrapped  up  in  my 
own  sorrow,  not  to  see  something  of  yours." 

"Law,  honey,  you  an'  yo'  mammy  been  a  comfort 
to  me.  You  ain't  got  nothin'  to  blame  yo'se'f  fo'.  Dat's 
a  long  time  in  de  pas'  now,  honey,  an'  de  good  Lord 
dulled  de  hurt.  No,  honey,  yo'  been  a  comfort  to  yo' 
ole  auntie." 

"Aunt  Maria,"  Jennie  asked  softly,  "what  became 
of  big  Sam?" 

The  old  woman  shook  her  head. 


AUNT  MARIA'S  FAITH  173 

*'He  warn't  no  good  in  de  cotton  field,  or  aroun'  de 
plantation  after  li'l  Sam  war  gone.  At  de  nex'  big 
auction  sale  what  took  place,  lie  war  sole,  too.  An'  I 
war  kep'  to  look  after  de  big  house. 

''One  night  when  Massa  Charles  was  fas'  asleep,  I 
slipped  over  to  de  li'l  cabin  an'  set  hit  on  fire.  I 
know  hit  war  wrong,  but  I  couldn't  bear  to  see  hit 
there,  so  deserted  like.  After  that  I  never  looked  over 
at  de  cottonwoods.  Sometimes  in  de  middle  ob  de 
night,  I  could  har  de  wind  a  moanin'  through  'em  an' 
I  prayed  de  good  Lord  to  send  de  light  ob  day." 

The  old  lady  paused  reflectively,  then  went  on  in  her 
quiet,  even  voice : 

"Big  Sam  I  know  am  dead.  But,  honey,  I  know  hit 
will  all  be  straightened  out  in  de  nex'  worl'.  An'  dat 
am  almos'  here.  I  kin  almos'  hear  de  roarin'  of  de 
ribber.  Now,  honey,  don'  yo'  go  an'  feel  so  bad.  Dis 
ole  woman's  troubles  am  almos'  over.  Don'  yo'  worry." 

"Oh,  Auntie  Maria,"  Jennie  murmured. 

"Now,  Mis'  Jennie,  yo'  ole  auntie  had  no  business 
for  to  go  an'  make  yo'  feel  bad.  Yo'  daddy  want  yo' 
to  come  down  to  de  office  to-day,  an'  get  yo'self  some 
fine  dresses.  Yo'  run  along  now,  honey,  an'  don'  yo' 
worry  none   'bout  dis  ole  woman." 

"This  much  I  know,  auntie,"  Jennie  said;  "you  are 
a  better  Christian  than  I.  My  faith  in  God  is  not 
nearly  as  strong  as   yours." 

"Law,  honey  chile,  yo'  jes  wait  until  yo'  am  seventy 
years  ole.    Yo'  faith  in  God  will  be  stronger." 

"Auntie,"  Jennie  exclaimed  in  astonishment,  "are 
you  seventy  years  old?" 


174  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

''Sure  am,  chile ;  diden'  I  tole  yo'  I  war  married  befo' 
de  warT' 

''Well,  well,"  Jennie  said,  "I  will  never  be  so  strong 
and  useful  when  I  am  seventy,  I'm  sure." 

"Yo'  run  along  now,  honey,"  the  old  woman  said, 
rising,  ' '  while  I  go  arter  dat  gal  in  de  kitchen.  ^  I  do 
declar',  dese  niggers  am  afraid  to  work  nowadays. 
Tears  like  dey's  mighty  lazy." 

"Now,  auntie,"  Jennie  said,  as  she  started  up  the 
stairs,  "don't  scold  Annie;  she  does  real  well,  I  think." 


CHAPTER  18 
A  FATHER'S  ADVICE 

SQUIRE  PARSONS  was  just  emerging  from  Marion 
Burnside's  private  office  when  Jennie  entered. 
He  stepped  aside  gallantly  and  held  the  door  open 
for  her,  giving  her  a  beaming  smile  as  he  did  so. 
Jennie,  whose  mind  was  occupied  with  other  matters, 
failed  to  notice  that  his  attitude  was  very  gracious  and 
his  smile  much  warmer  than  usual.  She  only  thanked 
him  and  stepped  within. 

Marion  Burnside  sat  at  his  glass-covered  mahogany 
desk,  beaming  affably  upon  the  stenographer  (a  very 
unusual  occurrence)  to  whom  he  was  dictating.  When 
Jennie  entered  he  swung  round  in  his  ponderous  chair 
and  smilingly  motioned  her  to  a  seat  opposite  him. 
Smiles  on  the  part  of  Marion  Burnside  were  very  rare, 
and  Jennie  experienced  something  of  the  feeling  of  as- 
tonishment which  rested  upon  the  little  stenographer, 
who  still,  with  pencil  poised,  waited  for  Marion  Bum- 
side  to  continue  his  dictation. 

''You  may  go.  Miss  Field,''  he  said,  permitting  for 
the  first  time  in  his  life  a  conversation  with  his 
daughter  to  interrupt  the  steady  flow  of  his  business. 

When  she  had  gone,  he  reached  into  his  desk  and 
pulled  out  a  large  check  book,  and  began  turning  its 
pages. 

"Jennie,''  he  said,  "I  have  raised  your  allowance  a 


176  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

trifle,  so  you  need  not  hesitate  in  any  purchase  yoa 
desire  to  make  in  regard  to  clothing.  I  think  this  will 
cover." 

Jennie  gasped  when  she  took  the  proffered  check. 
The  amount  was  almost  double  that  which  he  was  ac- 
customed to  giving  her. 

"Whatever  other  faults  Marion  Burnside  possessed, 
he  had  always  provided  amply,  too  amply  sometimes, 
Jennie  thought,  for  those  dependent  upon  him.  He 
did  not  know  that  for  years  Jennie  had  not  used  all 
the  money  he  had  given  her;  that  she  had  formed  a 
habit  of  dropping  into  a  box  in  her  trunk  whatever 
was  left  over  from  one  allowance  period  to  another. 
There  was  no  forethought  in  this  matter.  In  her  mind 
it  had  been  for  future  needs,  but  that  time  of  need  had 
never  come.  She  had  not  taken  the  trouble  to  count 
it;  in  fact,  the  box  was  entirely  forgotten  except  when 
there  was  money  left  over.  Had  Marion  Burnside 
known  of  this  he  would  have  been  astonished  at  his 
daughter's  lack  of  business  caution. 

''Do  you  wish  me  to  get  something  special — some- 
thing expensive,  father?"  she  asked,  not  a  little 
puzzled.  ''I  can  think  of  nothing  I  really  need,  and, 
father,"  this  with  hesitation,  ''I  don't  really  like  to 
dress  better  than  my  friends.  They  like  and  under- 
stand me  better  if  I  don't." 

''That's  just  the  trouble,  Jennie,"  he  said,  not  smil- 
ingly now,  but  sternly,  "you  are  not  exclusive  enough. 
I  have  noticed  for  some  time  this  tendency  of  yours 
to  keep  on  the  level  with  your  friends.  I  don't  like 
it.     You  should  remember  that  your  condition  in  life 


A  FATHER'S  ADVICE  177 

is  quite  different  from  theirs.  Now,  I'll  tell  you  what 
I  have  done,  and  I  trust  you  to  carry  out  my  wishes. 
There  is  a  salesman  in  town  with  a  fine  line  of  dresses. 
I  want  you  to  pick  out  several,  and  I  want  them  selected 
with  a  view  to  style.  Also  I  want  you  to  have  some 
party  gowns." 

''Party  gowns!"  Jennie  exclaimed,  ''why,  father!" 

"I  know,  Jennie,"  Marion  Burnside  went  on,  "I 
know  you  dislike  parties.  When  your  mother  lived 
she  never  compelled  you  to  go,  which  was  to  your  great 
detriment  even  as  a  child.  But  I  think  the  time  has 
come  when  you  should  give  these  things  more  of  your 
attention.  You  will  be  married  some  day,  and  I  mean 
that  you  shall  marry  within  your  station,  and  you  will 
need  to  give  some  heed  to  the  social  end  of  your  hus- 
band's home." 

"It  will  be  time  enough  to  think  of  those  things  when 
they  come, ' '  Jennie  returned.  ' '  I  can 't  see  why  I  should 
attend  these  tiresome  parties  now.  I  haven't  any 
husband's  home  with  a  social  end  to  look  after." 

Marion  Burnside  had  arisen  and  was  pacing  the 
office  floor.  He  stopped  now  beside  Jennie 's  chair,  with 
hands  thrust  deep  in  his  pockets,  and  glared  down  at 
her. 

"When  the  time  comes  it  will  be  too  late.  Besides, 
how  do  you  expect  to  get  that  husband?  Do  you 
think  he  will  just  come  along  and  pick  you  up?  Let 
me  tell  you,  young  lady,  that  is  where  husbands  are 
caught,  at  parties.  So  I  want  you  not  only  to  attend 
them,  -but  to  give  them." 

"Am  I  to  judge  by  that,"  Jennie  asked,  repulsion 


178  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

creeping  into  her  tones,  ''that  you  want  me  to  'catch' 
a  husband?" 

"You  are  not  'to  judge'  anything,  only  do  as  I  tell 
you,"  Marion  Burnside  said  with  finality. 

Jennie  knew  that  the  discussion  was  ended,  knew 
that  he  would  never  mention  it  again,  but  would  expect 
her  to  obey.  The  brightness  had  gone  out  of  her  face 
when  she  arose. 

"If  that  is  all,"  she  said,  "I  will  run  upstairs  a 
moment  and  see  Cynthia." 

' '  That  is  all, ' '  he  said,  ' '  only  I  think  that  one  of  the 
girls  who  labors  in  my  factory  is  hardly  the  companion 
for  my  daughter. ' ' 

"There's  no  better  girl  living  than  Cynthia  Brown, 
father,"    Jennie  returned  with  some  heat. 

"It's  not  a  matter  of  character,"  he  said;  "it's  a 
matter  of  standing;  but  go  on.  We'll  talk  of  that  some 
other  time.'* 

Jennie  beat  back  a  tendency  to  tears  as  she  ascended 
the  stairs.  When  she  passed  the  office  doors  all  evidence 
of  luxury  ceased.  Here  amid  the  hum  of  machinery 
and  the  clatter  of  the  voices  of  the  workers,  only  the 
direst  necessities  were  seen.  Great  wooden  tables  were 
piled  high  with  cloth  of  every  description.  She  passed 
around  these  and  crossed  the  room  behind  the  cutters' 
table  where  she  nodded  brightly  to  two  men,  who  with 
great  knives  cut  away  at  the  cloth  piled  high  before 
them.  Winding  around  the  pressers'  tables  she  came 
to  the  long  rows  of  machines,  at  which  the  girls  stitched 
and  gossiped.  Well  at  the  end  of  one  of  these  rows  sat 
a  girl  who  was  doing  neither.    Her  machine  was  idle. 


A  FATHER'S  ADVICE  179 

the  seam  under  her  needle  half  completed.  One  shapely 
hand  held  it  in  place,  while  t-he  other,  reaching  under 
the  arm  of  the  machine  steadied  the  cloth  as  it  came 
through.  In  that  attitude  she  had  stopped  and  was 
gazing  dreamily  out  of  the  window  on  to  the  top  of  a 
tar-covered  roof  beyond.  The  light  of  the  window  be- 
hind her  fell  over  a  wealth  of  golden-brown  hair  and 
lighted  the  profile  of  her  face. 

''I'm  going  to  have  you  sit  like  that  for  a  picture 
sometime,"  Jennie  said,  as  she  dropped  into  a  vacant 
chair  beside  her  friend. 

''Oh,  Jennie,  I'm  so  glad  to  see  you,"  Cynthia  ex- 
claimed. "I've  been  waiting  to  talk  to  you  for  so 
long." 

"I  haven't  seen  you  for  a  whole  week,  have  I?" 
Jennie  returned,  laughing.    "That  is  a  long  time." 

"Well,  at  any  rate,  I  do  want  to  talk  to  you,"  Cyn- 
thia replied. 

"I  came  to  ask  you  to  come  home  with  me  to  dinner," 
Jennie  said.  "Father  is  having  his  lunch  down  tows 
with  Squire  Parsons.  We'll  have  the  table  all  to  our- 
selves.   Will  you  come?" 

' '  Gladly, ' '  Cynthia  answered.  ' ' I  don't  have  to  work 
this  afternoon.  We  are  all  caught  up  with  the  pressers. 
I've  made  just  fifteen  cents  this  morning." 

"Goodness,"  Jennie  said.  "Well,  finish  up  what  you 
have.  I'll  go  down  and  borrow  one  of  father's  stenog- 
raphers for  a  little  while  and  then  we'll  go  home  to- 
gether. ' ' 

Jennie  did  not  tell  her  friend  of  the  letter  she  dic- 
tated that  day.     Indeed  she  mentioned  it  to  no  one. 


180  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

but  was  keenly  disappointed  about  two  weeks  later, 
when  a  letter  came  to  her  which  read: 

' '  Dear  Miss  Burnside :  Your  letter  received.  Contents 
carefully  noted.  We  would  be  glad  to  serve  you,  but 
consider  the  case  hopeless.  No  record  was  ever  kept  in 
regard  to  the  selling  of  slaves.  They  were  sold  and 
resold,  often  with  name  changed.  It  is  therefore  use- 
less to  take  up  the  work  of  tracing  them. 

*'We  regret  very  much  that  we  can  be  of  no  service 
to  you  in  this  matter. 

''Very   respectfully   yours, 

''Milton  Wadbaker, 

' '  Attorney-at-Law. 
"Lexington,  Tennessee." 


CHAPTER  19 
JENNIE  LEARNS  OF  A  SCHEME 

DURING  the  walk  home  and  the  mealtime  follow- 
ing, Jennie  noticed  a  peculiar  abstraction  of 
mind  quite  unlike  the  usual  attentive  alertness 
of  her  friend.  When  they  were  seated  on  the  wide 
veranda  and  the  silence  had  become  noticeable,  Jennie 
asked  suddenly:  ''What  is  it,  dear?  Can't  you  tell 
me?" 

Cynthia  started,  then  said  with  a  forced  laugh: 
"Why,  it's  nothing,  Jennie.  I  was  just  thinking,  that's 
all.  Even  a  featherhead  like  myself  is  supposed  to 
think  once  in  a  while." 

**Now,  dear,  I  know  you  are  just  evading.  How- 
ever, I  don't  want  you  to  tell  me  unless  I  can  be  of 
some  help." 

''It  isn't  that,"  Cynthia  replied.  "I  haven't  any- 
thing to  worry  about,  really.  I  was  just  thinking  of 
you." 

"Of  me  !"  Jennie  exclaimed.  "Why  should  thoughts 
of  me  keep  you  in  that  sort  of  study  all  day?  Tell 
me  wherein  I  have  been  so  wicked." 

"You  haven't  been  wicked,  Jennie,"  Cynthia  an- 
swered. Then  ended  with  a  laugh.  "I  am  the  wicked 
one." 

The  girl  was  quiet  a  moment,  thinking.  She  was 
evidently  weighing  in  her  mind  the  advisability   of 


182  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

confiding  in  her  friend.    Finally  she  spoke. 

"Listen,  Jennie,"  she  said.  ''I  accidentally  over- 
heard a  conversation  to-day  between  your  father  and 
Squire  Parsons.  They  were  talking  of  you.  At  first 
I  couldn't  help  listening;  afterward  I  listened  purposely. 
You  own  stock  in  the  Bridgewater  Continental  Pump 
Company  (or  something  like  that),  don't  you?" 

**Yes,"  Jennie  replied,  ''I  have  some  stock  in  that 
company.    Why  do  you  ask,  dear?" 

''Well,  it  seems  from  the  conversation  that  Squire 
Parsons  also  owns  some  stock  in  that  company,  and 
that  there  are  certain  things  he  would  like  to  do  if  he 
could  get  a  controlling  interest  in  the  company.  I 
gathered  that  he  had  tried  to  get  this  stock  from  your 
mother  before  she  died,  but  that  your  mother  refused 
to  sell  it." 

''I  know,"  Jennie  said.  "I  also  know  why  my  mother 
refused  to  sell  to  Squire  Parsons.  The  stock  is  worth- 
less. It  has  never  paid  one  cent  in  dividends  and  I  be- 
lieve it  never  will.  Yet  Squire  Parsons  shall  never 
have  it.  He  had  just  as  well  give  up  his  plans.  He 
outlined  his  plans  to  my  mother  and  she  told  him  that 
while  he  might  make  some  money  out  of  it  others  would 
only  lose  by  it,  and  that  she  would  neither  be  a  party 
to  it,  nor  sell  her  stock  for  that  purpose." 

''If  the  stock  in  practically  worthless,"  Cynthia 
commented,  "I  can't  see  why  he  should  have  any  diffi- 
culty in  buying  all  he  wants  from  others.  I  wouldn't 
think  all  the  stockholders  would  be  as  conscientious 
as  your  mother  was  about  it." 

"There   are   only  four  stockholders,"  Jennie  said, 


JENNIE  LEARNS  OF  A  SCHEME  183 


"two  men  living  in  Bridgewater,  Squire  Parsons,  and 
myself.  Those  two  men  firmly  believe  that  some  day 
they  can  make  the  business  pay.  He  can't  buy  their 
stock  and,  as  it  stands,  he  can  neither  buy  nor  con- 
trol mine.  He  only  wants  to  get  his  own  money  back 
with  as  much  more  as  would  be  advisable.  He  doesn't 
plan  to  operate  the  company  and  get  his  returns 
legitimately.  If  he  can  get  control,  boost  the  capital 
stock  and  sell  it,  including  his  own,  then  he  can  drop 
out  and  let  the  new  stockholders  contend  with  the 
difficuties  of  operating  and  marketing.  He  would  have 
his  money  out  of  it,  but  they  would  find  their  money 
uselessly  invested." 

"Is  that  the  reason  you  will  not  sell  to  your  father?" 

"I  cannot  sell  to  father,"  Jennie  answered.  "Mother 
knew  that  father  would  take  up  with  Squire  Parsons 's 
schemes.  She  .never  really  owned  the  stock.  It  be- 
longed to  my  grandmother.  She  was  going  to  give  it 
to  my  mother,  at  the  time  Squire  Parsons  first  came  to. 
see  her  about  it.  Mother  went  straight  to  grandmother 
and  had  her  will  it  to  me,  with  the  provision  that  if  I 
should  ever  try  to  sell  it  to  any  person,  the  stock  would 
revert  to  the  one  now  owning  the  majority  of  stock 
in  the  company." 

"Did  your  mother  do  that?"  Cynthia  asked  in- 
credulously. 

"Indeed  she  did,"  Jennie  answered  with  a  tinge  of 
pride  in  her  voice.  "Mother  knew  that  company  would 
never  pay  out.  Squire  Parsons  knows  it,  too.  His  is 
only  a  scheme  to  make  some  money  at  somebody 
else's  expense.    Mother  was  too  clever  for  them." 


184  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

''But,  Jennie,  they  have  thought  of  a  way  around 
that,"  Cynthia  returned.  ''Squire  Parsons  suggested 
it.  You  see  in  this  State  if  you  are  married,  your  hus- 
band has  practically  the  control  of  your  property." 

"Cynthia!" 

"Yes,  Jennie,  that's  what  they  plan.  You  see  Henry 
Parsons  is  coming  home  soon.  If  you  and  he  should 
marry,  he  could  go  to  the  stockholders'  meetings  and 
cast  your  vote  and  in  that  way  they  could  control  the 
majority  of  the  stock." 

"Cynthia  Brown,  what  are  you  telling  me?"  Jennie 
asked  unbelievingly. 

"That's  what  they  were  saying,  Jennie,"  Cynthia 
reaffirmed.  "I  heard  it  all  distinctly.  I  was  in  the 
stock  room  back  of  your  father's  private  office,  looking 
for  a  piece  of  goods  that  is  practically  out  of  stock. 
You  know  there  is  seldom  anyone  in  there.  The  kitten 
which  plays  around  the  factory  had  followed  me  in  and 
run  back  under  the  stairway  behind  your  father's  office. 
I  knew  if  I  locked  him  in  that  room  he  would  starve, 
so  I  crept  back  under  there  to  get  him  out.  It's  a 
small  place  you  know,  and  has  the  dust  of  ages  in  it. 
You  may  guess  that  I  was  surprised  to  find  that  I 
could  hear  every  word  that  was  said  in  the  private 
office.  At  first  I  was  quiet,  afraid  to  move  for  fear 
of  being  heard.  Afterward,  as  I  told  you,  I  listened 
purposely." 

"Well,  well,"  Jennie  murmured. 

"You  see,  Jennie,  they  think  it  would  be  to  your 
advantage.  They  think  that  you  will  marry  somebody 
and  that  Henry  Parsons  is  the  only  young  man  here 


JENNIE  LEARNS  OF  A  SCHEME  185 

who  is  of  your  station  in  life.    They  said  that,  so  you 

see  they  are  not  trying  to  harm  you,  as  they  see  it." 

*'No,"  Jennie  said  meditatively,  ''not  as  they  see  it." 

''Well,  that  is  all,"  Cynthia  continued.  "I  don't 
know  why  it  should  have  worried  me  so.  But  some- 
how, I  felt  that  they  were  plotting  against  you.  At 
the  same  time  I  knew  that  they  thought  they  were  plan- 
ning for  you. ' ' 

"Yes,  dear,  they  are  not  to  blame,  but  I  am  glad 
you  told  me,"  Jennie  said.  "However,  I  think  they 
have  their  planning  all  for  nothing.  1  don't  think 
Henry  Parsons  will  take  to  that  plan  in  the  least.  You 
know  in  school  he  and  I  were  not  the  chums  we  might 
have  "been."  Jennie  laughed  at  the  recollection  of  their 
school-day  quarrels. 

"Listen,  Jennie,"  Cynthia  said,  "Henry  Parsons 
would  have  been  a  man  worth  knowing  had  he  been 
permitted  to  grow  up  naturally.  He  may  be  as  bad 
as  his  parents  and  their  foolish  wealth  have  tried  to 
make  him,  but  I  don't  believe  it.  He  would  never 
stoop  to  marrying  any  woman  because  there  was  money 
to  be  gained  by  doing  so.  His  father  knows  that.  You 
mark  my  words.  Henry  will  never  know  about  that 
part  of  it  until  afterwards.  They  know  full  well 
that  if  they  throw  you  and  Henry  together  he  just 
couldn't  help — well,  they  think  he  would " 

"Cynthia,"  Jennie's  laugh  rang  out  gayly,  "I'm 
sure  he  wouldn't.  Everybody  doesn't  see  me  through 
your  eyes,  dear." 

"But,  Jennie,  you  are  beautiful,  and  they  are  right. 


186  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

You  are  the  only  one  of  his  station  here."  There  was 
just  a  touch  of  sadness  in  Cynthia's  voice. 

''Station!"  Jennie  laid  special  emphasis  on  the  word. 
''Cynthia,  there  is  only  one  standard  by  which  'station' 
can  be  measured,  and  that  is  not  money  or  social  po- 
sition. Character  is  the  only  standard,  and  I  know 
many  of  my  station  in  that  respect  and  many  above  it. ' ' 

"That's  not  the  world's  system  of  measuring  station, 
Jennie. ' ' 

' '  Nevertheless, ' '  Jennie  laughed,  ' '  I  think  I  can  man- 
age my  father  and  Squire  Parsons.  I  don't  think  I 
will  have  the  least  trouble  there.  And  as  for  Henry 
Parsons,  I  seem  to  remember  that  a  certain  little  flaxen- 
haired  girl  was  his  special  chum  and  favorite.  Perhaps 
he  may  measure  station  by  my  system,  Cynthia. ' ' 

Cynthia's  eyes  fell  and  a  slow  flush  spread  over  her 
face. 

"You  don't  think  I  had  any  such  motive  as  that  in 
telling  you  what  I  have,  do  you,  Jennie?"  she  asked. 
"You  know  that  looking  after  mother  will  be  my  work 
in  life,  don't  you?" 

"Oh,  Cynthia,  dear,"  Jennie  said  contritely,  "I  was 
only  joking.  You  know  I  didn't  mean  that,  don't 
you?" 

"Of  course,"  Cynthia  answered,  a  smile  once  more 
bringing  the  dimples  to  her  cheek.  "I  know  you 
better  than  that." 

"A  note  for  you,  miss." 

The  maid  appeared  and  extended  the  tray  to  Jennie. 
She  took  from  it  the  missive  and  tore  it  open. 

"Oh!"  she  said,  "it's  from  the  man  with  the  gowns. 


JENNIE  LEARNS  OF  A  SCHEME  187 

He  says  he  can't  show  me  his  line  until  to-morrow 
afternoon.  Can't  you  manage  to  come  over  and  help  me 
choose  some  dresses,  Cynthia?  I  know  your  judgment 
is  better  than  my  own." 

''I'm  not  so  sure  about  that,"  Cynthia  said.  ''But 
there  never  was  a  woman  who  could  resist  looking  at  a 
line  of  dresses  even  if  she  had  no  thought  of  buying. 
I  will  certainly  try  to  come  if  the  work  is  still  slack 
at  the  factory." 

For  the  remainder  of  the  afternoon  Cynthia  chatted 
and  was  her  own  bright  self  again.  Jennie  never 
grew  tired  of  watching  the  dimples  come  and  go  in 
her  cheeks,  or  her  face  light  up  with  a  passing  thought. 
Her  friendship,  loyal  and  true,  Jennie  knew  to  be  one 
of  the  most  precious  possessions  of  her  life. 


CHAPTER  20 
A  DISCUSSION  ON  THE  RESURRECTION 

WELL,  WE  ARE  ready  once  more  for  our  study. 
I  wonder  if  anyone  has  succeeded  during  the 
day  in  tearing  down  our  work  of  last  eve- 
ning." The  speaker's  voice  did  not  imply  fear  of  the 
disaster  mentioned. 

' '  Well,  I  went  over  it,  but  it  still  fits, ' '  Bill  Lakeman 
said,  tapping  the  great  Book  before  him.  ''This  is  an 
awfully  old  Bible,  but  I  declare,  it  seemed  new  to 
me  to-day." 

''It's  always  new,  Mr.  Lakeman,"  Alfred  said  ear- 
nestly. 

The  shades  of  evening  coming  once  more  from  over 
the  hill  found  the  little  group  in  their  favorite  spot 
beneath  the  honeysuckle.  The  deep  red  glow  of  the 
sinking  sun  had  not  faded  from  the  sky.  The  balm 
of  the  summer  evening  was  in  the  air  and  all  nature 
responded  with  serenity. 

"I  was  studying  before  I  came,"  Jennie  said,  con- 
tinuing the  conversation.  "And  I  was  checking  over 
that  first  verse  of  the  sixth  chapter  of  Hebrews.  It 
mentions  the  'resurrection  of  the  dead.'  That  is  a 
subject  I  am  especially  interested  in.  Did  you  tell  us 
all  there  was  to  tell  about  it  the  other  evening,  or  could 
we  learn  more?" 

"I  think  we  could  easily  learn  more,"  Alfred  an- 


THE  RESURRECTION  189 

swered  her.  "In  fact,  Miss  Burnside,  we  have  not 
taken  up  that  subject  at  all,  as  yet.  It  is  what  I  had 
planned  for  to-night.  Our  subject,  'The  mission  of 
Christ,'  was  closely  related  to  it,  yet  did  not  really  go 
into  the  subject  of  the  'resurrection  of  the  dead.'  We 
learned  then  that  Christ  would  restore  life.  To-night 
we  will  try  to  learn  how  completely  he  restores  it." 

As  each  settled  in  an  attitude  of  attention,  Alfred 
continued : 

*'We  will  use  our  pencils  and  paper  again  to-night 
as  we  did  last  night.  At  the  head  we  will  write  the 
subject:    'The  resurrection  of  the  dead.'  " 

"I  can't  see,"  Stanley  broke  in,  "how  there  can 
be  a  resurrection  of  the  dead.  I  had  this  brought  to 
my  attention  some  time  ago.  I  was  in  a  home  where  a 
man  died.  His  wife  was  heartbroken,  naturally.  Well, 
the  minister  came  and  comforted  her  with  these  words, 
'Your  husband's  spirit  is  in  heaven.'  Now  the  man 
hadn't  been  dead  more  than  an  hour,  yet  I  suppose  the 
minister  was  right.  I'm  not  seriously  questioning  his 
statement,  but  what  I  can't  see  is  this:  if  in  one  hour 
after  he  was  dead,  his  spirit  was  in  heaven,  (the  body 
was  buried  three  days  later)  how  could  there  be  such 
a  thing  as  a  resurrection?  To  resurrect,  as  I  under- 
stand it,  means  to  restore  to  life.  Now  if  that  man 
was  in  heaven  inside  of  one  hour  after  he  died,  his 
spirit  never  was  dead,  was  it?" 

"No,"   Alfred   answered,   "evidently  not." 

"Then  how  could  it  be  restored  to  life?" 

A  quiet  smile  crept  over  Bill  Lakeman's  face. 

' '  Perhaps  we  had  better  look  into  the  matter, ' '  Alfred 


190  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING* 

said.  '  *  The  first  question  to  determine  is :  do  the  spirits 
go  directly  to  heaven?  I  mean  by  that,  Do  they  re- 
turn directly  to  the  presence  of  God,  there  to  dwell 
with  him  throughout  eternity?  If  so,  then  Stanley  is 
right;  there  can  be  no  resurrection  from  the  dead  as 
is  promised  in  the  Bible.  However,  we  do  not  want 
to  be  controlled  by  an  'if.*  So  we  will  try  to  reach 
a  conclusion  from  the  teachings  of  the  Scriptures.  We 
learned  the  other  night  that  the  spirits  of  the  wicked, 
those  taken  captive  by  Satan,  go  at  death  to  the 
prison  house.  Now  we  will  need  to  learn  where  the 
spirits  of  the  righteous  go  at  death.'* 

'* Don't  you  believe  they  go  to  heaven?"  Jennie 
asked. 

** Possibly  we  might  call  it  that,"  Alfred  answered, 
**but  in  my  mind  it  would  be  like  a  friend  of  mine, 
who,  when  he  was  married  lived  in  a  little  two-room 
cottage  while  he  saved  up  money  to  build  his  perma- 
nent home.  Now  he  called  that  cottage  'home'  while 
he  lived  there,  but  it  was  not  that  home  in  which  he 
looked  forward  to  spending  the  remainder  of  his  life. ' ' 

"Are  we  to  understand  by  that,"  Stanley  asked, 
*'that  you  think  there  is  a  temporary  place  to  which 
the  spirits  of  the  righteous  go?" 

''If  I  answered  your  question,  Stanley,  you  would 
have  only  my  opinion  of  the  matter.  I  think  we  had  bet- 
ter find  out  what  the  Bible  has  to  say  about  it.  Mr.  Ben- 
nett, will  you  read  Luke  16:22?" 

"  'And  it  came  to  pass  that  the  beggar  died  and  was 
carried  by  the  angels  to  Abraham's  bosom:  the  rich 
man  also  died,  and  was  buried.'  " 


THE  RESURRECTION  191 

*'We.  all  know  the  rest  of  the  story,"  Alfred  went 
on.  "I  merely  wanted  to  establish  the  fact,  that  when 
the  righteous  died,  there  was  a  place  of  rest  prepared 
for  them,  in  this  instance,  called  'Abraham's  bosom.' 
Now,  let  us  investigate  further.  Will  you  tell  us,  Mr. 
Lakeman,  from  Revelation  2 : 7,  where  the  tree  of  life 
stood?" 

Bill  Lakeman  studied  the  verse  carefully  before 
he  answered,  then  he  said: 

'Tn  the  midst  of  the  paradise  of  God." 

''Very  well;  now,  Stanley,  2  Corinthians  12:4." 

"  'How  that  he  was  caught  up  into  paradise,  and 
heard  unspeakable  words,  which  it  was  not  lawful  for 
a  man  to  utter.'  " 

' '  Now,  Miss  Lakeman,  Luke  23 :  44. " 

"  'And  Jesus  said  unto  him.  Verily  I  say  unto  thee, 
To-day  shalt  thou  be  with  me  in  paradise.'  " 

"How  are  we  going  to  know,"  Stanley  asked,  "that 
the  paradise  mentioned  there  is  not  heaven?  How  are 
we  going  to  know  what  this  paradise  is?" 

' '  The  latter  part  of  your  question  is  hard  to  answer, 
Stanley,"  Alfred  said.  "It  is  a  subject  on  which  there 
is  very  little  revealed.  However,  I  notice  that  when  you 
speak  of  heaven,  you  always  speak  of  it  in  the  singu- 
lar number — 'heaven.'  In  this  matter  I  do  not  under- 
stand that  to  be  correct.  Paul  said  he  knew  a  man 
who  was  caught  up  to  the  third  heaven.  He  understood 
that  all  the  economy  of  God  was  not  confined  to  just 
one  place.  As  for  the  first  part  of  your  question,  we 
know  that  the  paradise  mentioned  by  Christ  on  the  cross 
was  not  the  place  you  choose  to  call  'heaven.'     If  I 


192  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

can  understand  the  Scriptures,  that  place  whiieh  you 
call  'heaven'  is  what  the  Bible  terms  the  'heaven  of 
heavens'  (2  Chronicles  6 :  18;  1  Kings  8 :  27),  the  highest 
heaven,  the  dwelling  place  of  God.  Paradise  is  not 
that  'heaven,'  for  Christ  made  the  statement  to  the 
thief,  'To-day  shalt  thou  be  with  me  in  paradise.'  Three 
days  later  he  told  Mary  that  he  had  not  yet  ascended 
to  his  Father.  For  this  reason  I  believe  the  paradise 
of  God  to  be  to  the  righteous  what  the  prison  house 
is  to  the  wicked,  a  place  where  they  go  to  await  the 
resurrection." 

Alfred  pulled  a  little  book  from  his  pocket. 

"I  am  going  to  read  to  you,"  he  went  on,  "the 
thought  expressed  better  than  I  am  able  to  express  it : 
'The  Spirits  of  those  who  are  righteous  are  received 
into  a  state  of  happiness,  which  is  called  paradise,  a 
state  of  rest,  a  state  of  peace,  where  they  shall  rest 
from  all  their  labors  and  from  all  care  and  sorrow.'  " 

"That  sounds  very  well,"  Bill  Lakeman  said,  "but 
what  is  the  object  of  not  letting  them  go  straight  to 
heaven?  Why  keep  them  away  from  God  in  a  place 
of  detention,  even  if  it  is  as  you  say,  'a  state  of  hap- 
piness'?" 

"That  is  a  big  question,"  Alfred  answered  him,  "so 
big  that  it  embraces  practically  the  whole  of  the  plan 
of  salvation.  I  think  we  will  have  discovered  the  an- 
swer by  the  time  we  have  studied  a  few  nights  more. 
For  the  present,  I  can  only  say  that  man  cannot  re- 
turn fully  to  the  presence  of  God  until  Christ  shall  have 
accomplished  his  great  mission,  and  he  has  not  yet 
'delivered  up  the  kingdom  of  God.* 


THE  RESURRECTION  193 

''No,,  we  must  wait,  like  those  whom  John  in  his 
vision  saw  under  the  altar,  who  he  said  had  been  be- 
headed for  the  witness  of  Christ.  They  asked  the 
question:  ''How  long,  0  Lord,  holy  and  true."  And 
the  answer  came  back:  'Rest  yet  a  little  while,'  so 
even  the  righteous  must  wait  for  that  day,  when  a 
great  voice  out  of  the  temple  of  heaven  shall  say: 
'It  is  done.'  " 

"Then  you  think,"  Stanley  asked,  "that  the  right- 
eous spirits  go  to  a  place  of  rest,  and  wait  there  until 
Christ  has  fulfilled  his  mission?" 

"Yes,"  Alfred  answered,  "until  the  climax  of  the 
plan  of  ages  is  reached." 

The  soft  winds  of  evening  stirred  among  the  trees. 
The  glow  faded  from  the  western  sky  and  the  shadows 
of  evening  began  to  fall.  The  quiet  assurance  of  eternity 
crept  into  their  hearts  as  Alfred  continued  the  in- 
terrupted study. 

"We  decided,"  he  said,  "that  we  would  learn,  first, 
when  the  resurrection  would  take  place.  Mr.  Lakeman, 
will  you  read  1  Thessalonians  4:16?" 

The  turning  of  the  leaves  of  Bill  Lakeman 's  great 
Bible  startled  a  tiny  sparrow  which  was  evidently  con- 
sidering a  roosting  place  for  the  night  among  the  ivy 
vines,  and  it  darted  away,  deciding  seemingly  that 
the  trees  of  the  grove  promised  greater  assurance  of 
unbroken  rest. 

Bill  Lakeman  read  :  ' '  'For  the  Lord  himself  shall  de- 
scend from  heaven  with  a  shout,  with  the  voice  of  the 
archangel  and  the  dead  in  Christ  shall  rise  first.'  " 

"Now,  Miss  Lakeman,  Revelation  20:5,  6." 


194  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

''  'But  the  rest  of  the  dead  lived  not  again  until 
the  thousand  years  were  finished,  this  is  the  first  res- 
urrection. Blessed  and  holy  is  he  that  hath  part  in 
the  first  resurrection:  on  such  the  second  death  hath 
no  power/  " 

''These  verses  teach  us,"  Alfred  commented,  'Hhat 
the  resurrection  of  the  righteous,  or  the  just,  will  take 
place  when  Christ  comes,  but  that  the  wicked  must 
yet  remain  in  the  bands  of  death  until  the  thousand 
years  are  ended." 

"I  have  been  taught,"  Jennie  Burnside  spoke  up, 
"that  Christ  comes  every  time  a  Christian  dies,  and 
that  constitutes  the  resurrection.  Do  you  believe,  Mr. 
Stewart,  that  Christ  will  come  literally?" 

"  I  am  glad  you  brought  up  that  question.  Miss  Burn- 
side,"  Alfred  said,  "for  it  is  really  impossible  to  study 
the  subject  of  the  resurrection  of  the  dead  without  con- 
sidering it  in  connection  with  Christ's  coming.  I  have 
heard  the  theory  you  mentioned.  But  it  does  not  seem 
to  fit  in  with  the  teachings  of  the  Bible.  From  the 
verses  that  Mr.  Lakeman  read,  we  learn  that  the  Lord 
himself  shall  descend  from  heaven  with  a  shout.  We 
are  told  that  every  eye  shall  see  him.  That  does  not 
correspond  with  the  deathbed  theory,  does  it?  The 
verse  Miss  Lakeman  read  teaches  us  that  those  who 
take  part  in  the  first  resurrection  will  escape  the  ter- 
rors of  the  second  death.  The  fact  that  there  will  be 
a  first  resurrection  in  which  all  that  are  dead  in  Christ 
shall  rise  is  further  evidence  that  the  theory  you  men- 
tioned of  a  promiscuous  resurrection  is  without  founda- 
tion in  the  Scriptures,  which  teaches  us  plainly  that 


THE  RESURRECTION  195 

there  is  a  day,  in  which  all  that  are  in  their  graves 
shall  hear  his  voice. 

''I  think  we  have  shown  that  one  resurrection  at 
least  will  take  place  when  Christ  comes.  Now  let  us 
investigate  what  the  resurrection  will  be.  However, 
before  we  go  any  farther  with  that  phase  of  the  ques- 
tion, I  want  to  recall  to  our  minds  some  of  the  facts 
established  in  our  study  regarding  the  mission  of  Christ. 
The  death  brought  into  the  world  by  Satan,  we  learned 
then,  was  twofold:  physical,  that  is,  separation  of  the 
spirit  from  the  body,  and  spiritual,  separation  from  God. 
Now  Christ's  mission  was  to  overcome  the  works  of 
Satan.  Hence,  as  death,  spiritual  and  physical,  was 
a  part  of  the  works  of  Satan,  Christ's  mission  to  be 
complete  must  of  necessity  overcome  the  physical  death 
as  well  as  the  spiritual.  The  world  has,  to  a  great  ex- 
tent, overlooked  that  fact,  although  he  demonstrated 
it  in  the  case  of  his  own  death.  Not  only  did  he  over- 
come the  spiritual  death  and  return  to  his  Father,  but 
he  overcame  the  physical  death  as  well  and  appeared 
among  men  with  spirit  and  body  reunited.  It  was  in 
this  complete  form  that  he  returned  to  God. ' ' 

Bill  Lakeman  tapped  the  Bible  before  him  medita- 
tively. 

''Do  you  mean  to  say  that  all  spirits  will  be  united 
with  their  bodies  in  the  resurrection?"  he  asked. 

''So  the  Bible  teaches,"  Alfred  answered.  "Do  you 
remember  the  vision  of  Ezekiel  in  regard  to  the  valley 
of  dry  bones?  How  the  sinews  and  flesh  were  com- 
manded to  come  upon  the  dry  bones,  and  the  spirits. 


196  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

in  this  case  called  breath,  came  into  them  and  they 
stood  upon  their  feet,  a  mighty  army?" 

''Our  minister  preached  on  that  subject  just  last  Sun- 
day," Jennie  Burnside  spoke  up.  ''He  told  us  that  was 
a  spiritual  picture,  meaning  the  salvation  of  Israel; 
that  it  was  fulfilled  when  they  returned  from  Babylon- 
ish captivity." 

Bill  Lakeman's  smile  was  eloquent  with  meaning. 

"Not  much  difference,"  he  murmured,  "between  an 
infidel  and  a  preacher.  The  infidel  sets  aside  the  Bible ; 
the  preacher  spiritualizes  it  away." 

Foolish  Bill  Lakeman!  He  thought  he  talked  to 
himself. 

InVardly  amused,  Alfred  made  no  comment  on  the 
old  man's  spoken  thought.  He  turned  instead  and 
addressed  himself  to  Jennie. 

"That  could  hardly  be  true,"  he  said,  "when  viewed 
in  connection  with  the  12th  and  13th  verses  of  this 
37th  chapter  of  Ezekiel,  which  read :  "  '  Thus  saith  the 
Lord  God;  Behold,  0  my  people,  I  will  open  your 
graves,  and  cause  you  to  come  up  out  of  your  graves, 
and  bring  you  into  the  land  of  Israel.  And  ye  shall 
know  that  I  am  the  Lord,  when  I  have  opened  your 
graves,  0  my  people,  and  brought  you  up  out  of  your 
graves.'  That's  plain  enough.  I  don't  see  why  any 
man  should   try  to  set   it   aside." 

"I  suppose  they  would  say,"  Bill  Lakeman  said,  with 
just  a  hint  of  the  old  hardness  in  his  voice,  "that  is 
a  figure  of  speech  also,  and  the  grave  mentioned 
there  merely  refers  to  their  captivity." 

"I  know  that  is  what  they  would  say,"  Alfred  an- 


THE  RESURRECTION  197 

swered,  ''but  that  will  scarcely  hold  together  either. 
The  eleventh  verse  tells  us  that  those  bones  represented 
'the  whole  house  of  Israel.'  Now  it  was  only  a  very 
small  portion  of  the  kingdom  of  Judah,  which  at  its  best 
was  only  about  three  of  the  tribes  of  Israel,  that  ever 
did  return  from  that  captivity.  The  kingdom  of  Israel 
was  never  in  captivity  to  Babylon,  and  never  returned 
from  a  previous  captivity.  So  his  explanation  will  not 
fit,  any  way  you  apply  it.  There  is  only  one  way  in 
which  the  whole  house  of  Israel  ever  can  be  brought 
to  their  own  land,  and  that  is  in  the  way  the  Lord 
says  he  intends  to  do  it — 'I  will  open  your  graves,  0 
my  people,  and  bring  you  up  out  of  your  graves.'  " 

Stanley's  eyes  sparkled  and  he  leaned  forward,  lis- 
tening intently.  Even  John  Bennett  seemed  to  wait 
anxiously  for  the  next  word. 

"Besides,"  Alfred  Stewart  went  on,  "if  that  evidence 
is  not  strong  enough,  we  will  look  at  Daniel  12 :  2. 
Stanley,  read  it." 

Stanley  dropped  his  eyes  from  the  speaker's  face 
to  the  book  before  him  and  read:  "  'And  many  of 
them  that  sleep  in  the  dust  of  the  earth  shall  awake, 
some  to  everlasting  life,  and  some  to  shame  and  ever- 
lasting contempt.'  " 

"  'Them  that  sleep  in  the  dust  of  the  earth,'  "  Al- 
fred quoted  after  him.  "Well,  if  they  are  not  suited 
with  that,  we  can  give  them  another." 

Bill  Lakeman  glanced  at  Stanley,  but  that  young 
man  had  his  entire  attention  fixed  on  the  young  preacher 
before  him.  Alfred's  fighting  spirit  was  aroused;  his 
sentences  came  crisp  and  distinct,  as  though  he  would 


198  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

attack  all  the  error  with  which  the  ages  had  surrounded 
the  beautiful  truths  of  the  gospel,  often,  as  was  the 
case   before  him,   almost  submerging  them. 

''Mr.  Bennett,  read  Job  19:23-27." 

John  Bennett  had  in  some  manner  learned  to  find 
his  own  passages  and  no  longer  needed  Jennie's  assist- 
ance.   He  found  the  place  quickly. 

"  'Oh,  that  my  words  were  now  written!  oh,  that 
they  were  printed  in  a  book!  That  they  were  graven 
with  an  iron  pen  and  lead  in  the  rock  forever!  For, 
I  know  that  my  Redeemer  liveth,  and  that  he  shall 
stand  at  the  latter  day  upon  the  earth:  and  though 
after  my  skin  worms  destroy  this  body  yet  in  my 
flesh,  shall  I  see  God :  whom  I  shall  see  for  myself,  and 
mine  eyes  shall  behold,  and  not  another;  though  my 
reins  be  consumed  within  me.'  " 

"Job  understood,"  Alfred  went  on,  "that  although 
his  body  faded  away  in  decay,  yet  he  should  see  God 
in  the  flesh.  'I  know  that  my  Redeemer  liveth.'  He 
knew  that  the  great  Redeemer  of  mankind  would  over- 
come death  and  decay,  and  that  he  should  see  God  in 
his  flesh.  No  wonder  he  rejoiced.  No  wonder  he 
wanted  his  words  to  be  written  with  an  iron  pen  and 
lead  in  the  rock  forever.  Perhaps,"  again  the  speaker's 
voice  took  on  its  note  of  sadness,  "perhaps  he  knew 
that  the  time  would  come  when  those  who  professed  to 
believe  would  deny. 

"That  is  not  all,"  the  speaker  continued;  "one  of 
the  prophets  of  God  makes  it  even  stronger.  Miss 
Burnside,  will  you  read  Isaiah  26: 19?" 

Jennie,  whose  attention  had  been  quite  as  rapt  as 


THE  RESURRECTION  199 

that  of  Stanley  Lakeman,  drew  a  short,  quick  breath. 
Yet  she  read  in  tones  clear  and  smooth. 

"  'Thy  dead  men  shall  live,  together  with  my  dead 
body  shall  they  arise,'  "  Alfred  quoted  once  more, 
in  dust:  for  thy  dew  is  as  the  dew  of  herbs,  and  the 
earth  shall  cast  out  the  dead.'  " 

"  'Thy  dead  men  shall  live,  together  with  my  dead 
body  shall"  they  arise,'  "  Alfred  quoted  once  more. 
"Now  I'd  like  to  see  them  spiritualize  that  away!" 
Once  more  the  shadow  came  on  his  face  and  the  burden 
of  the  world's  darkness  on  his  heart.  "But  I'd  a  good 
deal  rather  see  them  look  it  in  the  face  like  men." 

"Well,  boy,"  Bill  Lakeman  said,  "perhaps  they 
are  not  to  blame  after  all.  They  don't  understand, 
themselves,  consequently  they  can't  explain  to  others." 

"I  know  that's  true,"  Alfred  answered,  "and,  al- 
though I  allow  myself  to  speak  hastily  sometimes,  my 
sympathy  is  really  with  them.  If  it  were  not  for  the 
fact  that  this  continual  spiritualizing  away  those  things 
so  plainly  taught  in  the  Scriptures,  is  making  one  in- 
fidel to  almost  every  convert,  and  the  infidel  is,  in  so 
many  cases,  the  thinking,  questioning  man,  it  would 
not  be  so  serious,  Mr.  Lakeman,  you  would  be  sur- 
prised to  know  how  many  doubters  I  find,  even  among 
men  whose  names  appear  on  church  books.  I  can't 
help  admitting  that  it  makes  me  sad,  at  times." 

"I  know  it,  boy;  I  know  it,"  Bill  Lakeman  re- 
turned. 

"Now  that  verse,"  Alfred  went  on,  "  'Thy  dead 
men  shall  live,  together  with  my  dead  body  shall  they 
arise.'    How  could  language  be  plainer?     The  closing 


200  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

sentence,  'The  earth  shall  cast  out  the  dead,'  is  a  posi- 
tive declaration.  It  leaves  no  chance  to  do  other  than 
reject  or  accept  it." 

Alfred  was  quiet  a  moment  and  then  continued, 
'^I  had  an  experience  once  which  amused  me.  I  was 
in  the  habit  of  attending  the  prayer  meetings  of  a 
popular  church.  One  evening  during  the  course  of  the 
meeting,  a  young  man  arose  and  asked  the  question: 
'*  'Will  our  bodies  be  resurrected?' 

''It  seemed  that  was  a  question  that  had  bothered 
him  for  some  time.  The  leader,  a  big  burly  fellow,  an- 
swered:  'No!  When  I  am  through  with  this  old 
body,  thank  God,  I  expect  to  lay  it  aside  and  never  be 
hampered  with  it  again.' 

"Think  of  it,  'this  old  body'  as  he  put  it— -the  most 
wonderful,  the  climax  of  all  of  God's  physical  crea- 
tions— God's  greatest  physical  gift  to  man,  esteemed 
so  lightly! 

"Well,  I  thought  I  would  give  him  a  question  or 
two,  so  I  asked:  'When  a  man  dies,  where  does  his 
spirit  go?' 

"His  answer  came  promptly,  just  as  I  expected  it 
would : 

"  'Back  to  God  who  gave  it.' 

"  'Does  the  spirit  ever  go  to  the  grave?'  I  asked 
again. 

"  'No,  indeed!'  he  answered,  'we  bury  the  body  in 
the  grave  but  the  spirit  goes  to  God.  The  spirit  is 
never  in  the  grave.' 

"  'Then,'  I  asked,  'if  the  body  only  is  in  the  grave, 


THE  EESURRECTION  201 

what  Qomes  out  when  the  graves  are  opened  as  the 
Bible  says  they  will  be?'  " 

Bill  Lakeman  langhed  heartily. 

"And  what  did  he  say  to  that?"  he  asked.  ''That 
must  have  given  him  something  to  think  about." 

"  'Oh/  he  said,  'we  shouldn't  study  too  deeply  into 
these  questions.'  And  he  promptly  closed  the  meeting, 
although  the  time  was  not  half  taken  up." 

"That's  just  the  trouble,"  Bill  Lakeman  said, 
"afraid  to  look  the  question  honestly  in  the  face.  And 
yet,  young  men,  such  as  you  mentioned,  come  to  such 
people  for  information,  and  get  husks  as  their  reward. ' ' 

"That's  the  sad  part  of  it,"  Alfred  answered. 

"If  that  man  had  ever  studied  anything  about  his 
body,"  Stanley  said,  "he  would  never  have  made  such 
a  remark  about  it.  The  body  of  man  is  truly  a  wonder- 
ful creation,  and  if  man  did  not  abuse  it  so  much 
would  be  more  wonderful  still.  However,  I  would 
like  to  ask  you  some  questions:  If  the  body  is  to  be 
resurrected,  will  it  be  the  same  body  we  have  now? 
In  the  resurrection,  will  I  have  the  same  hands  I  have 
now?  And  what  about  the  man  who  dies  a  cripple? 
Will  he  also  be  a  cripple  in  the  resurrection?" 

' '  Not  so  fast, ' '  Alfred  laughed,  then  seriously :  ' '  Be- 
fore we  study  the  Scriptures  on  the  subject,  I  would 
like  to  ask  you  a  question,  Stanley.  If  you  live  to  be 
fifty  years  of  age,  do  you  expect  to  have  these  identical 
hands?  I  mean  by  that,  do  you  expect  the  same  flesh 
and  bone  which  now  composes  them,  to  compose  them 
then?" 

"No,"  Stanley  answered,  "the  natural  changes  of 


202  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

the  body  will  probably  have  changed  it  all  by  that  time. 
I  see  what  you  are  trying  to  say.  But  what  I  wanted 
to  ask  is  this:  if  I  were  to  die  this  minute  would  1 
come  forth  in  the  resurrection  with  the  same  flesh  I 
now  have?" 

"We'll  investigate  that  point,"  Alfred  answered. 
"1  Corinthians  15:35-37  may  help  us  out.  You  may 
read  it,  Stanley." 

"  'But  some  men  will  say,  How  are  the  dead  raised 
up  ?  and  with  what  body  do  they  come  ?  Thou  fool,  that 
which  thou  sowest  is  not  quickened,  except  it  die.  And 
that  which  thou  sowest,  thou  sowest  not  that  body  that 
shall  be,  but  bare  grain,  it  may  chance  of  wheat  or 
of  some  other  grain:  but  God  giveth  it  a  body,  as  it 
hath  pleased  him,  and  to  every  seed  his  own  body.'  " 

"Paul  answered  your  question  in  the  negative,  Stan- 
ley. It  is  not  necessarily  the  same  flesh  which  comes 
from  the  grave  when  the  gra-ve  is  opened.  That  flesh 
may  have  withered  away  but  the  same  Creator  who 
created  man  first  from  the  dust  of  the  earth  can  bring 
those  dissolved  elements  together  again  and  form  them 
anew.  Paul  carries  it  even  further.  It  would  seem  that 
our  life  here  determines  to  a  great  extent  what  the 
condition  of  our  resurrected  body  will  be,  for  he  goes 
on  in  the  fortieth  verse:  'There  are  also  celestial 
bodies,  and  bodies  terrestrial.'  Now,  Paul,  when  he 
makes  this  statement,  is  discussing  the  body  which  will 
come  forth.  I  would  gather  from  this,  that  those  who 
attain  to  the  celestial  glory  which  he  mentions  in  the 
next  verse,  will  be  permitted  to  enjoy  a  more  glorious 
body  than  those  who  only  attain  to  the  terrestrial.    The 


THE  RESURRECTION  203 

thought  might  be  carried  even  farther.  It  is  just  possi- 
ble that  those  who  attain  to  the  glory  mentioned  in 
verse  forty-one  as  the  glory  of  the  stars,  will  not  be 
able  to  enjoy  the  glory  of  being  of  those  of  the  terres- 
trial." 

''That  seems  reasonable,"  Bill  Lakeman  said. 

'■Paul  throws  still  more  light  on  the  subject,"  Alfred 
said.    "Miss  Lakeman,  will  you  read  verses  41  to  44?" 

"  'There  is  one  glory  of  the  sun,  and  another  glory 
of  the  moon,  and  another  glory  of  the  stars:  for  one 
star  differeth  from  another  star  in  glory.  So  also  is 
the  resurrection  of  the  dead.  It  is  sown  in  corruption ; 
it  is  raised  in  incorruption ;  it  is  sown  in  dishonor ;  it  is 
raised  in  glory;  it  is  sown  in  weakness;  it  is  raised  in 
power;  it  is  sown  a  natural  body;  it  is  raised  a  spir- 
itual body.'  " 

"Do  you  understand,  Stanley,  that  although  the  body 
which  we  lay  in  the  grave  is  truly  wonderful,  and  a 
great  blessing  from  God,  yet  the  body  which  he  shall 
bring  forth  out  of  the  grave  is  infinitely  more  wonder- 
ful?" 

"Yes,"  Stanley  said,  "it  would  seem  so." 

"In  this  connection,"  Alfred  continued,  "I  would 
like  to  consider  2  Corinthians  5 :  17.  Miss  Burnside, 
will  you  read  it?" 

"  'Therefore  if  any  man  be  in  Christ,  he  is  a  new 
creature :  old  things  are  passed  away ;  behold,  all  things 
are  become  new.'  " 

' '  Now  I  would  like  also  to  hear  Job  33 :  25.  Mr.  Lake- 
man,  will  you  read?" 


204  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

"  '  His  flesh  shall  be  fresher  than  a  child's:  he  shall 
return  to  the  days  of  his  youth.'  " 

Bill  Lakeman  had  been  following  these  passages  of 
scripture  with  unusual  interest. 

''To  me,"  Alfred  went  on,  "these  verses  teach  a 
beautiful  thought.  In  the  resurrection  there  will  be  no 
weak  bodies.  Laid  away  in  weakness,  'it  shall  be 
raised  in  power.'  This  would  answer  your  question  in 
regard  to  cripples,  Stanley,  or  those  maimed  in  any 
manner.  Furthermore  it  teaches  us  this,  those  who 
are  laid  away  in  feeble  old  age,  will  come  forth  in  the 
power  of  their  manhood.  'He  shall  return  to  the  days 
of  his  youth,'  and  for  the  flesh  which  is  seamed  and 
wrinkled  with  age,  he  will  be  given  'flesh'  that  is 
'fresher  than  a  child's.'  Isaiah,  evidently  speaking  of 
the  same  thing,  says  that  there  shall  no  more  be  an 
old  man  who  has  not  fulfilled  his  days.  Old  age,  bodily 
blemishes,  and  all  other  undesirable  conditions  will 
have   vanished." 

"Young  man,"  Bill  Lakeman  said,  "the  Bible  as 
you  have  made  it  appear  to  us,  holds  out  comfort  and 
correction  for  every  wrong  condition  in  life.  I  am 
an  old  man,  but  I  thank  God  to-night  that  I  have  been 
able  to  understand  him  better  because  of  the  things 
you  have  taught  us.  I  like  that  thought.  "What  com- 
fort would  it  be  to  live  to  see  old  age  and  to  know 
that  we  would  carry  an  aged  body  throughout  eternity? 
I  would  rather  commit  suicide  in  the  prime  of  life 
than  to  do  that.  But,  Mr.  Stewart,  I  have  run  up  against 
a  snag  which  I  would  like  for  you  to  uproot.  Back  here 
in  1  Corinthians,  15th  chapter,  I  read  this: 


THE  RESURRECTION  205 

''  'Now  this  I  say,  brethren,  that  flesh  and  blood  can- 
not inherit  the  kingdom  of  God;  neither  doth  corrup- 
tion inherit  incorruption. '  " 

''That  is  a  snag,  isn't  it?"  Alfred  asked,  laughing. 
"We  will  go  on  and  study  the  rest  of  the  chapter  and 
then  come  back  to  your  snag,  Mr.  Lakeman,  and  hitch 
all  hands  on  for  a  mighty  pull."  Then  he  continued 
seriously,  "I  think  there  is  surely  some  harmony  be- 
tween that  passage  of  scripture  and  the  teachings  of 
the  rest  of  the  Bible.    Stanley,  will  you  read  verse  51  ? " 

"  'Behold,  I  show  you  a  mystery;  we  shall  not  all 
sleep,  but  we  shall  all  be  changed.'  " 

"Now,  Mr.  Bennett,  the  next  verse." 

"  'In  a  moment,  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye,  at  the 
last  trump :  for  the  trumpet  shall  sound,  and  the  dead 
shall  be  raised  incorruptible,  and  we  shall  be 
changed.'  " 

"Now,  Miss  Burnside,  verse  53." 

"  'For  this  corruptible  must  put  on  incorruption,  and 
this  mortal  must  put  on  immortality.'  " 

"I  can't  tell  you,  Mr.  Lakeman,  what  the  difference 
will  be  between  the  flesh  of  immortality  and  the  flesh 
of  our  present  mortal  condition.  It  will  evidently 
differ  from  our  present  combination  of  flesh  and  blood. 
I  can't  say  in  just  what  manner.  Then  we  notice  that 
the  Apostle  John  admits  having  doubts,  for  he  says: 
'It  doth  not  yet  appear  what  we  shall  be;  but  we  know 
that,  when  he  shall  appear,  we  shall  be  like  him.'  " 

"However,  this  much  we  do  know:  Christ  himself 
went  into  heaven,  taking  with  him  the  same  body  with 
which  he  was  resurrected.     It  bore  the  spear  hole  in 


206  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

his  side,  the  print  of  the  nails  in  his  hands.  When  he 
comes  again  the  second  time,  he  will  show  to  Israel, 
according  to  the  Scriptures,  those  evidences  of  his 
identity.  His  flesh  is  in  the  kingdom  of  heaven,  his 
blood  was  spilled  on  Calvary.  So  I  am  content,  as  was 
John,  'It  does  not  yet  appear  what  we  shall  be:  but 
we  know  that,  when  he  shall  appear,  we  shall  be  like 
him.'  Now  just  one  more,  Mr.  Lakeman;  will  you 
read  Philippians  3  :  20-21?" 

"  'For  our  conversation  is  in  heaven;  from  whence 
also  we  look  for  the  Savior,  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ: 
who  shall  change  our  vile  body,  that  it  may  be  fashioned 
like  unto  his  glorious  body  according  to  the  working 
whereby  he  is  able  even  to  subdue  all  things  unto  him- 
self.' " 

And  so  the  evening  ended  in  the  holy  hush  of  night. 
They  separated  quietly,  thoughtfully.  Yet  in  the  heart 
of  each  was  a  prayer  of  thankfulness  for  the  mighty 
fullness  of  the  gospel  of  Christ. 


CHAPTER  21 
THE    SELECTION    OF    TWO   DRESSES 

IS  IT  becoming?"  Jennie  asked  the  salesman,  as  she 
stood  before  the  mirror,  arrayed  in  a  gown  of  gor- 
geous design,  which  in  its  cunning  deception  gave 
the  beholder  the  impression  of  simple,  unassuming  grace 
and  quiet  dignity. 

' '  Very ;  miss,  very, ' '  the  salesman  responded  warmly. 
Jennie  looked  at  her  friend  for  confirmation.  Cynthia's 
eyes  were  bright  with  enthusiasm. 

''You  are  beautiful  in  it,  Jennie,"  she  said  truth- 
fully. 

Jennie  looked  the  gown  over  critically. 

"Haven't  you  something  more  stylish?"  she  asked. 

"That  would  hardly  be  possible,"  the  salesman  re- 
turned, "unless  I  would  show  you  some  of  the  freak 
styles,  which  are  not  at  all  suitable  for  you.  Indeed, 
if  we  would  dare  say  so,  they  are  hardly  suitable  for 
anyone,  but  we  must  have  them  to  satisfy  a  certain 
portion  of  our  trade." 

"I  would  like  to  see  them,  I  think,"  Jennie  said. 
"And  in  the  meantime,  perhaps  if  I  could  see  this  on 
some  one  else,  it  might  help  me  make  a  descision.  If 
Miss  Cynthia  could  try  it  on?" 

"Certainly,  Miss  Burnside,  that  will  work  fine.  We 
will  just  use  the  young  lady  as  a  model,"  the  sales- 
man laughed  pleasantly.    "An  attractive  model  is  half 


208  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

the  sale,"  he  added  as  he  spread  the  gowns  before 
Jennie  for  inspection,  and  smiled  at  Cynthia's  confusion. 

"Why,  they  are — "  Jennie  started,  when  her  eyes 
fell  on  the  gowns  before  her,  but  checked  herself.  "I'll 
try  this  one  on,  please." 

When  she  had  left  the  room  to  make  the  necessary 
change,  the  salesman  stared  after  her  unbelievingly. 
He  was  something  of  a  student  of  human  nature  and  had 
considered  himself  a  character  reader.  In  this  case 
he  found  himself  floundering  in  uncertainty.  For  Jen- 
nie had  carried  with  her  the  extremest  of  the  extreme 
— the  very  gown  the  salesman  always  folded  away  with 
a  grunt  of  disgust  and  a  mental  picture  of  the  woman 
he  would  expect  to  wear  it,  and  the  picture  was  not 
alluring.  Moreover,  Jennie  was  not  of  that  type, 
therefore  the  salesman  was  puzzled. 

When  a  moment  later  Jennie  stood  before  the  full 
length  mirror  in  the  sample  room,  she  could  scarcely 
repress  a  smile  at  her  own  reflection.  The  salesman 
stood  back  venturing  neither  criticism  nor  approval. 

"Oh,  Jennie!"  Cynthia  exclaimed  as  she  appeared  in 
the  doorway. 

But  Jennie  for  the  moment  had  forgotten  herself. 
She  was  looking  at  Cynthia,  drinking  in  the  full  revela- 
tion of  the  girl's  beauty.  From  the  golden-brown  curls 
piled  high  on  her  head,  to  the  graceful  folds  of  the  skirt 
as  it  brushed  the  floor,  every  line,  every  feature,  de- 
noted grace  and  beauty.  It  was  not  the  beauty  of  the 
gown  alone,  but  rather  the  exquisite  harmony  of 
the  whole,  which  produced  the  effect.  In  fact,  Jennie 
thought  as  she  looked  at  her,  one  quickly  forgot  the 


SELECTION  OF  TWO   DRESSES  209 

gown  swallowed  up  as  it  was  in  the  personality  of  the 
woman. 

Not  so  with  Cynthia.  There  was  an  expression  al- 
most of  pain  in  her  deep  blue  eyes,  as  she  regarded 
Jennie. 

''That  will  never  do,  Jennie,"  she  remonstrated. 
''It's  very  unbecoming  to  you." 

"But  it's  stylish,  isn't  it?"  Jennie  appealed  to  the 
salesman. 

"Very,  miss,"  he  returned  indifferently.  "I  have 
nothing  more  stylish." 

"I'll  take  it,"  she  said.  "Yes,  I  think  I  will  take' 
the  one  Miss  Cynthia  is  wearing  as  well." 

The  salesman  looked  at  her  keenly.  Such  contrfisting 
taste  in  one  individual.  Surely,  women  were  past  find- 
ing out. 

"Now,  one  thing  more,"  Jennie  said;  "will  you  show 
me  some  attractive  riding  suits,  please?" 

The  alacrity  with  which  the  little  man  sprang  to  do 
her  bidding  betrayed  the  fact  that  she  had  touched 
upon  his  favorite  hobby.  Riding,  and  all  that  per- 
tained to  it,  aroused  all  the  latent  enthusiasm  of  his 
nature. 

"We  have  some  excellent  habits,"  he  said  as  he 
laid  them  before  her.  "One,  I  think,  that  would  be 
most  becoming  to  you,  miss." 

And  indeed  his  judgment  was  not  wrong.  Jennie 
could  not  have  been  a  woman  had  she  not  gazed  longer 
at  her  own  reflection  in  the  mirror  than  was  absolutely 
necessary  to  decision.  Indeed,  the  instant  her  eyes  fell 
upon  the  reflection  the  truthful  mirror  presented,  the 


/ 

/ 

/ 


210  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

decision  was  made.  Yet  she  gazed  unbelievingly.  The 
roguish  tilt  of  the  hat,  which  sat  lightly  over  her 
dark  hair,  the  daintiness  of  the  riding  gloves,  the  per- 
sonality of  the  riding  whip  which  hung  from  her  arm, 
all  combined  to  make  the  picture  which  held  her  gaze. 
She  stood  gazing  with  surprised  eyes  for  one  long 
minute;  then  a  slow  blush  spread  over  her  face.  She 
had  realized  suddenly  why  she  wanted  that  habit; 
knew  that  the  coming  among  them  of  a  certain  light- 
haired  stranger  had  prompted  the  impulse  to  ap- 
pear to  better  advantage  than  she  had  hitherto  thought 
necessary.  Yet  it  is  possible  that  had  Alfred  Stewart 
known  of  that  blush  he  might  not  have  been  seriously 
displeased.  He  might  even  have  dropped  his  head  to 
hide  a  certain  glad  light  in  his  own  eyes,  or  a  smile 
that  would  come  to  his  lips.  But  Alfred  did  not  know, 
and  he  certainly  could  not  guess  that  his  presence  in 
Leesburg  could  possibly  be  the  cause  of  any  unusual 
extravagance  on  the  part  of  any  of  her  citizens. 

When  the  business  of  the  afternoon  had  been  trans- 
acted and  the  girls  were  once  more  alone,  Cynthia 
threw  her  arms  around  her  friend. 

''That  riding  habit  and  the  one  dress  are  beautiful, 
Jennie,"  she  said,  "quite  the  most  beautiful  I  have 
seen." 

"That  'one  dress'  is  not  mine,  dear  lady,"  Jennie 
answered. 

"Not  yours !" 

Jennie  laughed  gayly  and  pressed  Cynthia's  arm 
playfully. 

"You  unsuspecting  dear!     And  to-morrow  is  your 


SELECTION  OF  TWO   DRESSES  211 

birthday,"  she  said.  ''Oh,  I  was  so  much  afraid  you 
would  catch  on." 

"But,  Jennie,"  Cynthia  faltered,  ''I — I  couldn't  ac- 
cept such  a  present,  really.  Besides  what  would  a  fac- 
tory girl  like  myself  do  with  a  dress  like  that?" 

''Listen  dear,"  Jennie  said  gently;  "that's  just  the 
kind  of  dress  a  factory  girl  like  yourself  does  want, 
because  you  can  appear  well  dressed  in  it  and  at  the 
same  time  not  appear  overdressed.  I  gave  you  that 
dress,  because  you,  of  all  my  girl  friends,  have  not  let 
the  fact  that  my  father  is  reputed  to  be  wealthy  in- 
terfere with  your  friendship.  I  know  you,  Cynthia.  A 
friend  like  you  is  one  of  the  rarest  possessions  of  earth. 
You  would  be  my  friend  just  the  same,  no  matter  what 
would  overtake  me  in  life.  Your  friendship  would 
be  true  through  joy  or  sorrow,  honor  or  disgrace.  So 
I  want  you,  dear,  to  accept  the  dress  and  wear  it  un- 
hesitatingly." 

Cynthia's  eyes  filled  with  tears,  and  she  ran  her 
hands  lovingly  over  the  folds  of  the  gown.  The  very 
silence  spoke  her  appreciation  more  eloquently  than 
words  could  ever  have  done.  And  Jennie  understood, 
for  Jennie,  too,  was  a  woman. 


CHAPTER  22 
THE  EARTH'S  GREAT  DAY 

STEWART,"  Bill  Lakeman  called,  ''come  here." 
Alfred  looked  up  from  a  point  where  he  leaned 
out  over  the  brook  in  a  vain  attempt  to  catch  a 
wiry  little  minnow  which  was  trying  to  make  the 
rapids.  It  darted  playfully  away  from  him,  found  a 
rift  among  the  rocks,  and  succeeded  in  reaching  the 
still  waters  above. 

Alfred  laughed  at  his  failure  and  started  up  the  bank 
to  where  Bill  Lakeman  sat  under  a  great  maple.  As 
he  did  so,  crowding  through  a  tall  bunch  of  grasses, 
he  was  attracted  by  a  noise  at  his  feet,  followed  by 
a  whir  of  wings. 

'*A   quail's  nest,   Mr.   Lakeman,"  he   called  as  he 
stopped  to  investigate  the  disturbance. 
•   The  old  man  arose,  pressed  his  way  through  the  grass 
to  Alfred's  side,  and  leaning  over,  peered  with  Alfred 
into  the  nest  below. 

''Full  of  eggs,"  he  said;  "she'll  be  sitting  soon." 

"You  would  never  have  found  it,"  he  continued  as 
he  rose  to  his  feet,  "if  you  hadn't  almost  stepped  into 
it.    That  bird's  mighty  particular  who  finds  her  nest." 

"Well,  come  on  back,  birdie,"  he  added,  looking 
out  to  where  the  little  hen  ran  to  and  fro  among  the 
grasses,  trying  vainly  to  attract  their  attention  from 


THE  EARTH'S  GREAT  DAY  213 

the  place.  "We'll  not  hurt  your  nest,  and  we  under- 
stand these  antics." 

He  carefully  arranged  the  grasses  back,  it  seemed  to 
Alfred,  just  as  they  had  found  them. 

''This  arrangement  won't  fool  the  bird  either/*  he 
said.  ''Man  can't  put  his  hand  down  on  nature,  ever, 
and  have  it  the  same  after  he's  gone." 

When  they  reached  the  tree  under  which  Bill  Lake- 
man  had  been  sitting,  Alfred  threw  his  crutch  to  the 
ground  and  stretched  himself  luxuriously  on  the  bed 
of  soft  mosses.  A  feeling  of  rest  and  quiet  stole  over 
him.  He  looked  up  high  among  the  leaves  over  his 
head  and  discovered  there,  wedged  securely  between 
the  leaves,  a  tiny  bird's  nest.  Stealing  cautiously  be- 
tween the  leaves,  a  pewit  poised  for  a  moment  on  the 
edge  of  the  nest,  deposited  the  morsel  she.  was  carry- 
ing, in  the  open  mouth  of  her  young,  and  darted  away 
again.  Farther  out  on  the  edge  of  another  limb  a  golden 
oriole  had  hung  her  nest,  and  Alfred  felt  himself  car- 
ried in  fancy  back  to  boyhood -when  these  things  had 
formed  the  most  joyous  associations  of  his  life.  The  tree 
stood  on  a  little  peninsula  overlooking  the  brook,  and  he 
closed  his  eyes  and  listened  to  the  melody  of  the  wa- 
ters as  they  jumped  from  rock  to  rock  of  the  rapids. 

It  was  one  of  those  beautiful,  secluded  spots  of  nature, 
and  Alfred  knew  instinctively  that  he  had  stumbled 
upon  Bill  Lakeman's  favorite  retreat  as  he  had  a  few 
evenings  before  found  Stanley's.  He  noticed  that  Bill 
Lakeman  had  been  reading  his   Bible. 

"What  do  you  think  of  this  bed  of  moss?"  the  old 
man  asked,  running  his  eye  over  the  velvet-like  smooth- 
ness of  its  surface. 


214  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

''I  never  saw  one  more  beautiful,"  Alfred  answered 
truthfully. 

"Look."  Bill  Lakeman  pulled  from  his  pocket  a 
small,  round  glass  and  held  it  before  Alfred's  eyes. 
Instantly  the  moss  bed  beneath  was  transformed  into  a 
veritable  bed  of  flowers,  each  tiny  stem  a  complete 
plant  in  itself,  topped  by  a  single  yellow  flower, 
proudly  holding  up  its  head,  as  though  it  knew 
that  while  too  small  to  be  seen  and  noticed,  yet  it 
was  needed  to  add  to  the  beauty  of  the  whole.  It  re- 
minded Alfred  of  some  lives  he  had  seen,  quiet,  unpre- 
tentious, scarcely  noticeable  in  themselves;  yet  he  re- 
alized it  was  such  lives  which  formed  the  smoothness 
and  beauty  of  the  world. 

He  reached  his  hand  for  the  glass  which  the  old 
man  surrendered  willingly,  and  looked  long  at  the 
flowers  beneath  him.  He  noticed  in  the  center  of  each 
tiny  yellow  flower  a  single  drop  of  red;  and  knew  that 
other  beauties  yet  lay  hidden  by  their  very  minuteness 
beyond  the  power  of  the  glass  in  his  hand.  As  usual 
under  these  circumstances  his  mind  went  out  to  the 
Creator  who  had  planned  and  fashioned  these  won- 
derful things  of  nature,  more  wonderful  because  man 
could  neither  see  nor  understand. 

Unconsciously  he  lifted  his  eyes  from  the  moss  at 
his  feet  to  the  sky  above,  and  the  old  man  following 
him  with  his  keen,  kindly  eyes,  smiled.  How  easy  to 
follow  his  thoughts.  Yet  to-day  Bill  Lakeman  himself 
lifted  his  eyes  to  heaven  and  felt  the  reality  of  the  ex- 
istence of  that  great  God  whom  Alfred  loved,  and  Bill 


THE  EARTH'S  GREAT  DAY  215 

Lakeman  felt  his  own  heart  warm  toward  the  God  he 
had  always  doubted  and  misunderstood.  His  gaze  once 
more  fell  to  the  flowers  at  his  feet  and  he  felt  that  he 
knew  that  God  better  because  of  having  loved  his 
creations. 

''They're  perfect,"  Alfred  said,  viewing  the  flowers 
once  more  through  the  glass  in  his  hand.  He  lifted 
his  eyes  thoughtfully  to  Bill  Lakeman 's  face. 

''Men's  sight  is  never  clear  enough  to  see  the  things 
of  God,"  he  remarked.  "We  are  never  able  to  see  them 
in  all  their  completeness.  Paul's  statement  that  now 
we  see  'through  a  glass  darkly'  fits  everywhere,  doesn't 
it?  I  can't  see  all  the  beauty  of  this  moss  bed,  not  even 
with  the  help  of  this  glass.  Part  of  it  is  still  hidden.  I 
think  it  must  be  the  same  in  spiritual  things.  Even 
with  the  help  of  the  Spirit  of  God,  which  he  has  given 
us  as  a  glass  to  aid  our  spiritual  sight,  we  still  only  '  see 
in  part.'  Do  you  know,  Mr.  Lakeman,  that  at  times 
when  I  get  to  thinking  about  it,  I  feel  that  I  am  anx- 
ious for  that  time  when  we  shall  see  face  to  face, 
when  all  these  beauties,  now  hidden  from  our  sight, 
will  be  revealed  to  our  perfected  vision." 

"Oh,  boy,"  Bill  Lakeman  laughed,  "what  would 
the  world  be,  without  such  dreamers  as  you?  Yet 
you  are  right;  much  of  our  sight  is  hidden.  We  go 
through  life  little  realizing  the  beauty  of  the  world  we 
are  in.  The  air  we  breathe,  the  sounds  we  hear,  the 
sights  we  see  are  so  wonderful  that  men  who  have  spent 
their  entire  lives  studying  them  have  only  skimmed 
the  surface  with  their  knowledge.  Just  as  it  was  with 
your  moss  bed,  there  are  always  greater  beauties  lying 


216  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

just  beyond  the  reach  of  our  comprehension.''  The 
old  man  gazed  at  a  patch  of  blue  showing  through  the 
leaves  above  him.  Thoughtfully  he  watched  a  snowy 
cloud  drift  across  its  surface  and  out  of  the  range  of 
his  vision. 

"Do  you  realize,"  he  said,  facing  his  companion  and 
bringing  into  the  conversation  one  of  those  sudden 
changes  of  thought,  peculiar  to  him,  ''that  beneath  all 
this  'hidden  beauty'  as  you  call  it,  death  lurks?  Look 
here."  Reaching  out,  he  lifted  a  leaf  on  a  bush  grow- 
ing near.  Just  beneath,  eating  away  at  the  heart  of 
the  leaf,  hung  a  great  green  worm. 

"That  isn't  all,"  Bill  Lakeman  went  on;  "the  corn 
in  that  field  over  there  looks  perfect  from  here,  but 
fully  one  third  of  it  is  worthless.  Death  is  everywhere. 
Look  at  these  hands;  why  are  they  seamed  and 
wrinkled?  The  same  answer:  death  and  decay. 
There  is  much  of  beauty  in  the  world,  but  just 
when  we  begin  to  forget,  death  looms  up  before  us, 
just  as  prevalent,  just  as  certain,  as  life." 

"Yes,"  Alfred  answered,  "all  you  have  said  is  true. 
We  are  evidently  living  in  the  evening  time  of  the 
earth :  that  time  when  the  earth  waxes  old  as  a  gar- 
ment. But,  Mr.  Lakeman,  if  I  can  understand  the 
Bible,  you  and  I .  are  not  to-day  seeing  anything  of 
death,  disease,  and  destruction  to  what  the  inhabitants 
of  the  earth  will  see  before,  that  day  of  the  Lord  shall 
come.  Looking  around  on  the  world  to-day,  we  feel 
to  a  great  extent,  perfect  safety.  But  the  time  will 
come  when  that  sense  of  safety  will  not  be  felt.  Let 
me  see  the  Bible  there.'.' 


THE  EARTH'S  GREAT  DAY  217 

Bill  Lakeman  picked  the  book  up  from  the  mosses 
at  his  feet  and  handed  it  to  Alfred. 

"There  is  one  thing  taught  clearly,"  the  young  man 
went  on  as  he  spread  the  Bible  out  on  the  moss  before 
him,  "and  that  is  the  great  time  of  destruction,  as 
the  end  draws  near.  Paul  in  speaking  of  it  said :  '  This 
know  also,  that  in  the  last  days  perilous  times  shall 
come.'  Jeremiah  23:19,  20,  puts  it  like  this:  'Behold, 
a  whirlwind  of  the  Lord  is  gone  forth  in  fury,  even  a 
grievous  whirlwind:  it  shall  fall  grievously  upon  the 
head  of  the  wicked.  The  anger  of  the  Lord  shall 
not  return,  until  he  have  executed,  and  till  he  have 
performed  the  thoughts  of  his  heart:  in  the  latter 
days  ye  shall  consider  it  perfectly.'  Christ  himself 
gives  us  a  picture  in  Luke  21 :  25,  26.  He  says  that 
in  the  generation  in  which  the  times  of  the  Gen- 
tiles shall  be  fulfilled,  'there  shall  be  signs  in  the  sun, 
and  in  the  moon,  and  in  the  stars ;  and  upon  the  earth 
distress  of  nations,  with  perplexity;  the  sea  and  the 
waves  roaring;  men's  hearts  failing  them  for  fear,  and 
for  looking  after  those  things  which  are  coming  on  the 
earth;  for  the  powers  of  heaven  shall  be  shaken.'  " 

"Not  a  very  bright  picture,  that,"  the  old  man  re- 
marked. 

"The  destruction  which  shall  take  place  before  the 
day  of  the  Lord  shall  come  will  be  far-reaching.  Lis- 
ten to  this  in  Joel  1:4,  10,  11,  15,"  Alfred  continued. 

"  'That  which  the  palmerworm  hath  left  hath  the 
locust  eaten;  and  that  which  the  locust  hath  left  hath 
the  cankerworm  eaten;  and  that  which  the  canker- 
worm  hath  left  hath  the  caterpillar  eaten.  .  .  .   The  field 


218  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

is  wasted,  the  land  mourneth;  for  the  corn  is  wasted: 
the  new  wine  is  dried  up,  the  oil  languisheth.  Be  ye 
ashamed,  0  ye  husbandmen;  howl,  0  ye  vinedressers, 
for  the  wheat  and  for  the  barley;  because  the  harvest 
of  the  field  is  perished.  .  .  .  Alas  for  the  day!  for  the 
day  of  the  Lord  is  at  hand,  and  as  a  destruction  from 
.the  Almighty  shall  it  come.'  Christ  speaking  of  the 
time  says  'nation  shall  rise  against  nation,  kingdom 
against  kingdom :  and  there  shall  be  famines  and  pesti- 
lences, and  earthquakes  in  divers  places.  All  these  .are 
the  beginnings  of  sorrow.' 

' '  You  were  right,  Mr.  Lakeman,  a  few  moments  ago ; 
death  and  destruction,  are  everywhere.  Even  when 
we  are  considering  the  beauties  of  the  created  world 
we  come  upon  its  blight.  Yet  we  learned  a  few  nights 
ago  in  our  study,  that  these  are  not  the  works  of  God. 
His  it  was  to  give  life  and  beauty ;  it  has  remained  for 
the  Devil  and  for  man  to  bring  death  and  destruction. 
It  remains  for  Christ  to  bring  about  a  restoration  of 
true  life." 

''That's  a  nice  theory,  Stewart,"  Bill  Lakeman  said, 
"but  will  the  facts  bear  out  the  assumption?  Now  it 
seems  to  me  that  man  and  the  Devil  are  not  responsible 
for  all  the  destruction  there  is  in  the  world.  There, 
did  you  see  that?  Was  it  man  or  the  Devil  who 
prompted  that  fish  to  dart  to  the  surface  and  snap 
up  that  fly  ?  That  was  destruction,  a  part  of"  the  de- 
struction that  .is  in  the  world.  Yet  God  himself  must 
have  given  that  fish  a  desire  to  eat  flies.  Practically 
all  of  the  life  of  the  world  is  maintained  by  the  de- 


THE  EARTH'S  GREAT  DAY  219 

struction  of  other  life.    How  do  you  account  for  that?" 

Alfred  smiled  assent. 

''I'll  have  to  let  the  decision  go  to  you  for  the  pres- 
ent, Mr.  Lakeman, ' '  he  admitted.  Then  more  seriously, 
''However  that  may  be,  this  time  or  scene  of  destruction 
will  end  when  Christ  shall  have  taken  over  the  ruling 
of  this  earth." 

"Just  what  do  you  mean  by  that  statement?"  Bill 
Lakeman  asked.  "Do  you  mean  that  Christ  and  God 
are  not  now  ruling  this  earth?" 

"Yes,  and  no,"  Alfred  answered.  "Christ  and  God 
do  most  certainly  rule  in  the  affairs  of  men,  yet  not  in 
the  absolute  sense.  There  is  another  agency  also  ruling 
among  men — Satan.     We  cannot  overlook  that  fact." 

"Well,  I  can't  see,"  the  old  man  said,  "why  God 
lets  the  Devil  stir  up  so  much  devilment.  "Why  doesn't 
God  take  him  out  of  the  way?" 

"I  have  often  thought  of  that,"  Alfred  answered 
looking  thoughtfully  up  at  the  canopy  of  leaves  above 
him.  "I  have  it  figured  out  that  it  is  God's  sense  of 
fairness.  He  will  not  be  unfair  even  with  the  Devil. 
There  will  evidently  be  a  time  when  God  can  and  will 
do  just  that.  The  devils  themselves  seem  to  under- 
stand it.  Do  you  remember  the  question  they  once 
asked  Christ?  'Why  hast  thou  come  to  torment  us  be- 
fore our  time?'  They  knew  that  there  would  come  a 
time  when  the  great,  just  God  could  say  to  them  in  all 
fairness.  You  must  no  longer  torment  the  children  of 
men. ' ' 

"Well,  I'll  be  glad  to  see  that  time  come,"  Bill 
Lakeman   commented.      "Man    himself  is    capable    of 


220  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

enough  meanness  without  any  help  from  the  DeviL'* 

They  were  quiet  a  moment.  Then  he  continued:  "I'd 
like  to  know  on  what  you  base  your  assertion  that  all 
this  destruction  will  cease  when  Christ  rules.  I  don't 
see  where  you  get  such  a  thought." 

"Do  you  remember  what  we  read  a  few  moments 
ago  about  the  destruction  of  the  palmerworm,  etc? 
That  was  a  picture  given  of  a  time  just  before  the  day 
of  the  Lord  shall  come.  Now  listen,  this  picture  follows : 
I  am  reading  Joel  2 :   21,  22,  25. 

"  'Fear  not,  0  land;  be  glad  and  rejoice:  for  the 
Lord  will  do  great  things.  Be  not  afraid,  ye  beasts  of 
the  field :  for  the  pastures  of  the  wilderness  do  spring, 
for  the  tree  beareth  her  fruit,  the  fig  tree  and  the  vine 
do  yield  their  strength.  .  .  .  And  I  will  restore  to  you  the 
years  that  the  locust  hath  eaten,  the  cankerworm,  the 
caterpillar,  and  the  palmerworm,  my  great  army  which 
I  sent  among  you.*  '* 

"That  sounds  good,"  Bill  Lakeman  said. 

"You  mentioned  a  moment  ago,"  Alfred  went  on, 
"the  destruction  among  the  animal  life.  But  listen, 
in  that  day  when  Christ  shall  reign  over  the  earth, 
this  condition  will  prevail.    (Isaiah  11 :  6-9.) 

"  'The  wolf  also  shall  dwell  with  the  lamb.'  Say, 
Mr.  Lakeman,  how  many  wolves  would  you  trust  among 
your  lambs  now  ? ' ' 

"Not  any,"  the  old  man  laughed. 

"Well,  it  will  be  different  then.  'The  wolf  also 
shall  dwell  with  the  lamb,  and  the  leopard  shall  lie 
down  with  the  kid;  and  the  calf  and  the  young  lion 


THE  EARTH'S  GREAT  DAY  221 

and  the  fatling  together;  and  a  little  child  shall  lead 
them.'    How's  that?" 

The  old  man  had  raised  himself  on  his  elbow  and 
was  regarding  Alfred  curiously. 

"Young  man,"  he  commanded,  "let  me  see  that 
Bible." 

He  took  the  book  and  carefully  reread  the  passage 
indicated. 

"I  thought  you  must  be  making  that  up,"  he  said 
as  he  handed  the  book  back. 

"Well,  that's  not  all,"  Alfred  laughed. 

"  'And  the  cow  and  the  bear  shall  feed;  their  young 
ones  shall  lie  down  together:  and  the  lion  shall  eat 
straw  like  the  ox.'  " 

"Do  you  mean  to  tell  me  that  this  earth  will  ever 
see  that  condition?"  the  old  man  asked  incredulously. 

"Evidently,"  Alfred  answered.  "This  is  the  way 
the  Lord  puts  it.  'They  shall  not  hurt  nor  destroy 
in  all  my  holy  mountain:  for  the  earth  shall  be  full 
of  the  knowledge  of  the  Lord,  as  the  waters  cover  the 
sea.'" 

"Well,  I'd  like  to  see  it  like  that,"  Bill  Lakeman 
said.     "Do  you  know,  that  sounds  like  a  fairy  tale?" 

"It  does  indeed,"  Alfred  agreed,  "at  least  it  sounds 
almost  too  good  to  be  true,  in  this  world  where  we  are 
accustomed  to  so  much  destruction  and  fear." 

"When  do  you  figure  that  will  be?"  the  old  man 
asked  again.  "After  we're  all  dead  and  gone,  most 
likely.  But  if  the  earth  is  ever  going  to  be  like  that, 
I'd   certainly  like   to   see  it." 

"I  think  the  Bible  gives  us  a  very  close  estimate 


222  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

as  to  when  it  will  be,"  Alfred  answered.  He  picked 
up  the  book  and  handed  it  to  his  friend.  ''Read  a  few 
passages  as  I  shall  give  them  to  you.    First,  Acts  1 :  11. " 

''  'Which  also  said,  Ye  men  of  Galilee,  why  stand 
ye  gazing  up  into  heaven?  This  same  Jesus,  which  is 
taken  up  from  you  into  heaven,  shall  so  come  in  like 
manner  as  ye  have  seen  him  go  into  heaven.'  " 

The  old  man  finished  and  looked  expectantly  at 
Alfred. 

"Now,  Luke  21:  27."  " 

"  'And  then  shall  they  see  the  Son  of  Man  coming 
in  a  cloud,  with  power  and  great  glory.'  " 

"It  is  probable,  Mr.  Lakeman,  that  we  will  both  be 
dead  before  that  great  day  of  peace;  but  if  we  are 
among  those  whom  Christ  has  redeemed,  I  think  we 
shall  enjoy  that  time.  Now  read  1  Thessalonians  4: 16, 
please." 

"  'For  the  Lord  himself  shall  descend  from  heaven 
with  a  shout,  with  the  voice  of  the  archangel,  and  with 
the  trump  of  God:  and  the  dead  in  Christ  shall  rise 
first.'" 

"Do  you  mean  to  show  by  that,"  Bill  Lakeman  asked, 
"that  even  if  we  are  dead,  we  will  be  allowed  to  come 
back  and  see  the  earth  like  that,  after  the  resurrec- 
tion?" 

"Yes,"  Alfred  answered,  "in  our  perfected  bodies. 
That  is,  if  we  are  fortunate  enough  to  be  among  the 
just." 

"Well,  it's  worth  trying  for,"  the  old  man  com- 
mented thoughtfully. 

"Now  read  Psalm  72:  7,  8." 


THE  EARTH'S  GREAT  DAY  223 

"  'In  his  days  shall  the  righteous  flourish  and  abun- 
dance of  peace  so  long  as  the  moon  endureth.  He  shall 
have  dominion  also  from  sea  to  sea,  and  from  the  river 
unto  the  ends  of  the  earth.'  " 

The  silence  of  the  forest  was  on  them,  except  for  the 
melody  of  the  water  as  it  sang  over  the  rapids  and  the 
twitter  of  the  birds  among  the  trees.  Bill  Lakeman 
raised  his  eyes  and  looked  off  at  the  line  of  hills  which 
fringed  the  valley.  But  now,  he  was  not  seeing  the 
valley  as  it  was  but  rather  in  his  mind  was  slowly 
forming  a  picture  of  a  perfected  world,  a  world  from 
which  crime,  sin,  and  sorrow  had  fled,  a  world  where 
birds  sang  and  were  not  afraid,  where  beasts  frolicked 
and  did  not  kill.  His  heart  burned  within  him  as  the 
true  significance  of  that  picture  came  to  him,  and  his 
voice  vibrated  with  feeling  when  he  spoke. 

''It's  certainly  worth  living  for,"  he  repeated. 

"We  were  talking  awhile  ago,"  Alfred  said,  "about 
God  putting  Satan  out  of  the  way.  Now  let's  read 
about  it.     Revelation  20. 

"  'And  I  saw  an  angel  come  down  from  heaven, 
having  the  key  of  the  bottomless  pit  and  a  great  chain 
in  his  hand.  And  he  laid  hold  on  the  dragon,  that  old 
serpent  which  is  the  Devil,  and  Satan,  and  bound  him 
a  thousand  years,  and  cast  him  into  the  bottomless  pit, 
and  shut  him  up,  and  set  a  seal  upon  him,  that  he  should 
deceive  the  nations  no  more,  till  the  thousand  years 
should  be  fulfilled:  and  after  that  he  must  be  loosed 
a  little  season.'  " 

"So  you  see,"  Alfred  remarked,  "God  is  going  to  do 
precisely  what  you  were  saying  a  while  ago  that  you 


224  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

wondered  why  he  did  not  do.  When  that  time  comes 
which  the  devils  themselves  know  of,  and  speak  of 
as  'our  time,'  the  God  of  heaven  will  see  that  they  de- 
ceive the  nations  no  more.'' 

''A  thousand  years,"  Bill  Lakeman  repeated,  ''on 
this  earth  with  Christ;  no  Devil,  no  wild  animals.  Do 
you  know,  boy,  that's  the  most  wonderful  thing  you 
have  taught  us  yet." 

He  was  quiet  a  moment,  then  turned  to  Alfred  sud- 
denly. 

"Say,"  he  said,  "doesn't  that  knock  a  hole  in  the 
teaching  that  we  will  spend  our  eternity  in  heaven?" 

"Yes,"  Alfred  answered,  "it  knocks  at  least  a  thou- 
sand years  out  of  that  theory.  Furthermore,  I  think 
a  study  of  the  Bible  knocks  more  than  a  thousand  years 
out  of  it.  In  fact  we  are  not  taught  in  the  Bible  that 
we  will  spend  our  eternity  in  heaven.  (I  mean  by 
that,  in  the  skies.)  Our  eternity  will  be  spent  princi- 
pally here  on  earth.  We  have  just  read  that  we  will 
spend  a  thousand  years  here.  That  is  not  all.  If  you 
should  read  the  balance  of  that  chapter,  you  would  dis- 
cover that  after  the  thousand  years'  reign  of  Christ  is 
ended,  Satan  will  again  be  loosed  for  a  little  season. 
After  this  little  season  is  ended,  the  rest  of  the  dead  will 
be  brought  forth  and  the  great  day  of  judgment  will 
take  place.    Begin  again  and  read  it." 

"  'And  cast  him  into  the  bottomless  pit,  and  shut 
him  up  and  set  a  seal  upon  him,  that  he  should  deceive 
the  nations  no  more,  till  the  thousand  years  should  be 
fulfilled :  and  after  that  he  must  be  loosed  a  little  season. 
A.nd  I  saw  thrones,  and  they  sat  upon  them,  and  judg- 


THE  EARTH'S  GREAT  DAY  225 

ment  was  given  unto  them :  and  I  saw  the  souls  of  them 
that  were  beheaded  for  the  witness  of  Jesus  and  for 
the  word  of  God,  and  which  had  not  worshiped  the 
beast,  neither  his  image,  neither  had  received  his  mark 
upon  their  foreheads,  or  in  their  hands ;  and  they  lived 
and  reigned  with  Christ  a  thousand  years.'  " 

**That  you  see,''  Alfred  said,  ''is  a  description  of 
the  first  resurrection,  or  the  resurrection  of  the  just. 
From  the  next  verse,  tell  me  what  becomes  of  the  rest 
of  the  dead." 

'*  'But  the  rest  of  the  dead,'  "  Bill  Lakeman  con- 
tinued reading,  "  'lived  not  again  until  the  thousand 
years  were  finished.    This  is  the  first  resurrection.'  " 

"When  the  thousand  years  are  finished,"  Alfred  went 
on,  "and  the  Devil  has  once  more  been  loosed  for  a 
time,  the  apostle  there  goes  on  to  tell  us  of  the  great 
judgment  day  of  God,  in  which  all  the  dead  stand  be- 
fore him  for  judgment — not  the  righteous  alone  but 
the  rest  of  the  dead  referred  to  there  as  well,  to  be  re- 
warded or  condemned  according  as  their  works  have 
been." 

"Now  when  the  judgment  is  past  and  all  have  re- 
ceived their  apportionment,  the  apostle  said:  'And 
I  saw  a  new  heaven  and  a  new  earth. '  Still  he  does  not 
tell  us  that  we  will  go  off  into  heaven  to  dwell,  but 
rather  tells  us,  'I  John  saw  the  holy  city.  New  Jerusa- 
lem, coming  down  from  God  out  of  heaven,  .  .  .  and  I 
heard  a  great  voice  out  of  heaven,  saying.  Behold,  the 
tabernacle  of  God  is  with  men,  and  he  shall  dwell  with 
them.'" 

"Well,  how  do  you  figure,"  Bill  Lakeman   asked. 


226  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

'Hhat  there  will  be  room  on  earth  for  all  those  people? 
There  have  been  a  lot  of  people  on  this  earth  since  the 
beginning/' 

''I  realize  that,"  Alfred  answered.  ''I  have  never 
thought  about  it  a  great  deal.  However,  this  much  I 
know.  This  earth,  even  as  it  is  to-day  will  support  a 
great  many  more  people,  if  the  proper  distribution  were 
made,  than  are  on  it.  Also  two  thirds  of  the  earth's 
surface  is  now  taken  up  with  seas  and  oceans.  John 
tells  us  that  on  the  new  earth,  there  will  be  no  seas. 
My  faith  in  God  is  sufficient  to  believe  that  if  it  were 
necessary,  he  could  and  would  make  the  new  earth 
large  enough  to  meet  the  demands. ' ' 

Bill  Lakeman's  eyes  wandered  thoughtfully  away 
over  the  cornfield  and  across  the  meadow.  This  time 
with  the  eye  of  a  naturalist  he  saw  the  beauty  of  the 
world  around  him. 

*'I  can't  conceive,"  he  said  finally,  "what  the  beauty 
of  the  redeemed  world  would  be.  Even  in  its  present 
condition  it  is  full  of  marvelously  beautiful  things. 
But  we  have  been  taught  so  long  that  we  must  go  off 
into  some  ethereal  place  to  spend  our  eternity,  that  I 
can't  grow  accustomed  to  the  thought  of  spending  it 
here  on  earth." 

''I'll  tell  you,  Mr.  Lakeman,"  Alfred  said,  ''that 
was  the  only  thing  I  ever  learned  about  the  gospel 
of  Christ  that  was  a  disappointment  to  me.  But  I 
must  confess  that  when  I  learned  that  this  world  was 
to  be  our  dwelling  place  in  eternity,  I  was  disappointed. 
Yet  that  is  what  the  Bible  teaches,  and  it  is  what  we 
must  believe  if  we  believe  it  to  be  the  word  of  God. 


I 


THE  EARTH'S  GREAT  DAY  227 

You  see,  I  have  always  been  a  lover  of  the  stars,  and 
the  thought  of  getting  near  to  them  was  a  source  of 
much  delight  to  me.'* 

' '  I  can  imagine  a  dreamer  like  you  feeling  like  that, ' ' 
Bill  Lakeman  said,  *'yet  I  can't  really  see  why  you 
should  feel  that  way  about  it.  Suppose  you  were  sent 
to  some  other  star  to  spend  your  eternity.  What 
assurance  have  you  that  it  would  be  a  more  pleasant 
place  to  live  than  our  own  earth  ? ' ' 

''None  whatever,"  Alfred   answered. 

''You  have  no  evidence,"  Bill  Lakeman  went  on, 
"that  it  would  be  a  more  beautiful  place,  either,  have 
you?" 

"No,"  Alfred  said,  "I  know  that  is  just  a  whim.  But 
you  see  we  don't  give  up  our  old  ideas  easily.  Some 
of  them  still  want  to  cling.  Now  I  know  that  in  eter- 
nity we  must  live  either  on  this  or  some  other  planet. 
I  never  have  been  one  of  those  who  believe  that  heaven 
is  just  some  spot  off  in  space  where  we  will  fly 
around  throughout  all  eternity  and  play  a  golden  harp, 
with  nothing  else  ever  to  do,  and  nothing  to  alight  on. ' ' 

The  young  man  laughed  as  he  continued: 

"You  see,  I  never  was  overly  industrious,  and  that 
always  seemed  a  little  too  long  to  fly  around  in  space. 
I  think  after  the  first  two  or  three  thousand  years, 
that  I  would  like  to  feel  some  good  old  earth  under  my 
feet  again." 

"Yes,  and  I,  too,"  the  old  man  agreed,  "and  I  think 
that  after  I  had  done  nothing  but  play  a  golden  harp 
for  one  or  two  thousand  years,  I'd  be  ready  to  say, 
0  Lord,  send  me  back  to  plowing  corn." 

The  old  man's  laugh  was  good  to  hear. 


228  THE  CALL  AT  EVENINQ 

''No,  sir/*  he  said,  ''the  Lord  can  count  me  in  favor 
of  his  plan.  That  suits  me  better  than  anything  I  have 
heard  yet.  Jupiter  and  Neptune  might  be  a  good  place 
to  spend  eternity  but  I'll  be  mighty  well  satisfied  with 
the  earth,  when  the  Lord  gets  through  making  it  over. ' ' 

"I  feel  this  way  about  it,"  Alfred  said:  "if  this 
earth  is  as  beautiful  as  it  is  now,  without  either  God 
or  Christ  here,  I  think  I  can  be  satisfied  with  it  when 
we  have  them  both.  Yes,  I'm  like  you,  Mr.  Lakeman; 
when  I  give  the  matter  thought,  I  am  satisfied  with 
the  Lord's  arrangement.  Do  you  think  that  will  be  a 
new  thought  to  Stanley  ?  If  it  is  I  have  a  mind  to  make 
it  the  basis  of  our  study  to-night.  Do  you  think  you 
could  stand  to  go  over  it  again?" 

"Do  it,"  the  old  man  said.  "I  not  only  could  stand 
it  but  would  enjoy  it.  Nothing  is  really  learned  that 
is  gone  over  only  once.  I'm  sure  both  Stanley  and 
Jennie  would  enjoy  it,  too.  Now,  do  you  see  that,  young 
man?  That  sun  is  just  naturally  running  a  race  with 
itself  to  get  behind  the  hill.  I've  got  milking  and  a 
score  or  other  things  to  do  before  study  time."  Suit- 
ing the  action  to  the  word,  the  old  man  scrambled  to 
his  feet.  Alfred,  owing  to  his  disablement,  was  some- 
what slower. 

"Let  me  milk  for  you,  Mr.  Lakeman?"  he  asked. 

Bill  Lakeman  looked  at  him  in  surprise. 

"Can  you  milk?"  he  questioned.  "Now  do  you  know, 
I  had  you  figured  out  to  be  one  of  those  city  men  who 
have  never  seen  a  milk  bucket." 

' '  Well,  I  have, ' '  Alfred  affirmed  laughingly.  ' '  It  has 
been  a  number  of  years,  but  I  think  I  could  still  man- 


THE  EARTH'S  GREAT  DAY  229 

age.  For  the  past  ten  years,  prior  to  the  time  I  went 
into  the  mission  field,  I  was  in  a  bank  in  the  city,  keep- 
ing books.  But  I  still  remember  my  days  on  the  farm. 
In  fact  haying  time  never  comes  but  what  I  feel  like 
I  wanted  to  get  out  and  pitch  hay  once  more.'* 

''And  feel  it  under  your  feet,''  Bill  Lakeman  com- 
mented, ''when  you  tramp  it  down  on  the  load,  and 
smell  it  when  it  is  being  cut." 

"It  all  goes  together,"  Alfred  said.  "I  don't  think 
the  man  ever  lived  who  was  once  a  farmer,  who  could 
forget  those  things  and  not  want  to  go  back  to  them 
occasionally." 

During  the  conversation,  they  were  walking  slowly 
toward  the  house.  Bill  Lakeman  paused  suddenly  in 
the  path  and  faced  Alfred. 

"Do  you  suppose,"  he  asked,  "that  in  that  time  we 
read  about,  we  will  plow,  sow,  and  thresh?" 

"I  don't  know,"  Alfred  answered,  "but  it  seems 
to  me  that  when  those  lions  we  read  about,  eat  straw 
like  the  ox,  somebody  must  do  some  threshing.  Don't 
you  think  so?" 

"It  looks  that  way,  boy;  it  looks  that  way,"  the  old 
man  said,  reflectively. 


CHAPTER  23 
HENRY  PARSONS  RETURNS 

AUNT  MARIA,"  Jennie  said,  "Henry  Parsons  is 
home  and  father  has  invited  him  to  dinner. 
Will  you  tell  the  girl  in  the  kitchen  to  see  that 
we  have  a  nice  dinner?  You  may  tell  her  also,  auntie, 
that  we  enjoyed  the  salad  she  made  the  other  evening, 
very  much.     She  may  serve  it  again  if  she  cares  to." 

**Law,  Mis'  Jennie,  you  sure  will  make  dat  girl  happy. 
She  so  proud  of  dat  air  salad,  she'd  work  hard  all 
day,  just  cause  you  praise  hit." 

"Indeed,  I  think  she  deserves  the  praise.  Not  many 
people  can  make  such  salad.  I  mean  to  have  her  teach 
me.'' 

"Now,  Mis'  Jennie,  don'  yo'  come  pesterm'  about 
de  kitchen,  spilin'  yo'  hands  an'  yo'  complexion.  Let 
niggers  and'  po  white  trash  do  dat  kin'  o'  work.  Yo' 
daddy  always  gin  yo '  plenty.  Yo '  stay  outen  de 
kitchen. ' ' 

"Well,  auntie,"  Jennie  laughed,  "I  might  be  'po' 
white  trash'  myself  some  day  and  it  will  be  nice  to 
know  all  those  things.  Yes,  I  think  I  must  know  how 
to  make  that  salad."  Then  more  seriously,  "If  Tom  is 
in  the  kitchen  when  you  go  out,  auntie,  tell  him  I 
would  like  to  see  him." 

A  moment  later,  Tom,  who  acted  as  general  care- 
taker of  the  grounds  around  the  Burnside  residence 


HENRY  PARSONS  RETURNS  231 

as  well  as  stableboy,  stood  before  Jeiinie,  shifting 
awkwardly  from  foot  to  foot.  He  was  evidently  much 
more  at  home  among  his  flowers  or  about  the  barn 
than  in  the  more  elaborate  elegance  of  the  house. 

"We  will  want  a  bouquet  of  your  most  beautiful 
roses  for  the  dining  table,  Tom, ' '  Jennie  said.  * '  Those 
you  arranged  for  us  last  were  very  artistic.  You  may 
also  choose  the  flowers  for  these  vases.'' 

She  designated  two  beautiful  creations  which  stood 
empty  on  the  mantle. 

Tom's  eyes  lighted.  He  gave  one  glance  at  the 
vases,  taking  in  the  entire  surroundings,  and  his  de- 
cision was  made.  Unconsciously  he  was  an  artist.  In 
that  brief  survey  he  did  not  see  the  empty  vases,  but 
nodding  above  their  containers  of  blue  and  gold,  great 
white  chrysanthemums  raised  their  waxen  faces  and 
seemed  to  laugh  at  their  own  reflection  in  the  mirror 
behind  them. 

''When  you  have  done  that,"  Jennie  went  on,  *'I 
want  you  to  drive  over  and  bring  Cynthia  down.  Tell 
her  I  want  her  to  take  her  lesson  this  morning.  Also 
tell  her,  Tom,  that  I  would  be  glad  if  she  would  wear 
her  new  gown.  I  want  to  see  it  on  her  once  more.  Can 
you  remember  all  that  ? " 

*'Yes,   Miss  Jennie,"  he  said   and  left  her. 

When  she  was  alone,  Jennie  chided  herself. 

*'0h,  duplicity,"  she  murmured  laughing  silently, 
yet  in  her  eyes  there  was  no  repentance. 

"Now  if  you  will  stand  out  there  just  a  little  farther, 


232  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

Cynthia.  There,  you  see  the  art  of  standing  is  quite 
as  important  as  any  other  part  of  the  singing.  Face 
this  way  please;  now  we  will  try  that  arpeggio  once 
more.'' 

Cynthia's  soft,  full  voice  took  up  the  run.  The  ascen- 
sion was  made  smoothly,  while  the  voice  came  out  on 
the  high  note  clear  and  free.  However,  on  the  deeend- 
ing  scale  Jennie's  critical  ear  detected  a  slight  break. 

''Once  more,  Cynthia,"  she  directed.  ''Place  the 
tones  very  carefully  and  don't  lose  control." 

Cynthia  tried  again,  this  time  with  perfect  success. 
She  took  the  run,  both  ascending  and  descending,  with 
perfect  balance  of  voice.  The  full  round  tones  filled 
the  whole  house  with  their  harmony.  Not  the  house 
only,  for  a  young  man  who  was  just  at  that  moment 
ascending  the  front  steps  stopped  in  his  ascent,  hoping 
once  more  to  hear  the  wonderful  melody  of  that  voice. 

A  glance  in  the  mirror  had  told  Jennie  he  was  com- 
ing, and  she  congratulated  herself  upon  the  selection 
of  that  especially  melodious  arpeggio  which  so  suited 
Cynthia's  voice.  Jennie  was  more  than  pleased  when 
she  saw  him  slip  quietly  into  a  chair  out  of  the  ob- 
servation of  the  singer  whose  unconscious  profile  was 
turned  toward  him,  and  whose  eyes,  imbued  with  the 
spirit  of  her  work,  looked  off  into  the  distance. 

Jennie  struck  very  softly  a  few  opening  chords. 

"Nothing  classic,  to-day,  Cynthia.  Just  this  old 
song  that  I  love." 

What  was  it  that  swept  Cynthia  into  the  past?  Back 
in  heart  to  the  old  days  when  there  had  been  no  dis- 
tinction of  class  brought  about  by  wealth ;  back  to  the 


HENRY  PARSONS  RETURNS  233 

time  when  the  widow  and  her  daughter  had  forgotten 
their  poverty  in  the  warmth  of  the  love  of  their  friends ; 
when  friend  met  friend  on  their  merits,  and  social  posi- 
tion did  not  exist.  Whatever  it  was,  touched  the  tones 
with  sadness,  and  added  a  hundredfold  to  their  appeal. 

"Oh!   don't  you   remember  sweet  Alice,   Ben  Bolt, 

Sweet  AHce  with  hair  so  brown; 
Who  wept  with  deUght  when  you  gave  her  a  smile, 

And  trembled  with  fear  at  your  frown? 
In  the  old  churchyard  in  the  valley,  Ben  Bolt, 

In  the  comer,  obscure  and  alone, 
They  have  fitted  a  slab  of  granite  so  gray, 

And  sweet  Alice  lies  under  the  stone." 

The  workers  in  the  kitchen  stopped  their  work  to 
listen.  The  lawn  mower  which  had  been  clattering 
about  the  grounds  was  silent,  while  Tom  leaned  on 
its  handle. 

But  the  one  most  affected  was  the  world-weary  man 
on  the  front  porch.  And  strange  as  it  may  seem,  he 
had  not  recognized  himself  as  world-weary,  until  the 
strains  of  that  old  song  fell  upon  his  ears,  and  he  too 
had  been  carried  into  the  past. 

As  the  song  progressed  he  was  no  longer  the  rich 
man's  son,  pampered  and  spoiled,  weighted  down  hy 
life's  unnatural  affectations,  but  a  barefoot  urchin 
playing  on  the  lake  shore  and  among  the  trees.  He 
could  see  himself  once  more  climbing  among  the  ruins 
of  the  old  gristmill  which  stood  around  the  bend  in 
the  road.  And  always  by  his  side,  constant  playmate 
and  companion,  was  a  flaxen-haired  girl,  the  daughter 


234  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

of  the  widow  who  had  lived  across  the  way.  By  a 
strange  flight  of  imagination  the  flaxen-haired  girl 
became  the  sweet  Alice  of  the  song,  while  he  was  the 
Ben  Bolt. 

Verse  by  verse,  as  the  words  fell  from  the  singer's 
lips,  the  man  was  carried  back,  back  over  the  days 
of  his  childhood  before  the  world  had  left  its  mark 
on  his  face;  and  a  great  heart  hunger  came  to  him, 
hunger  for  the  clean,  free  days  of  the  past,  and  for  the 
old  companionship  which  had  been  so  constant  and 
true.  He  realized  suddenly  that  the  influence  of  that 
companionship  had  stayed  with  him  through  the  years, 
knew  that  the  purity  of  the  past  had  somehow  kept 
him  from  the  depths. 

The  widow's  cottage  no  longer  stood  across  the  way. 
His  father  had  bought  it,  not  wishing  a  blot  on  the 
landscape.  And  he  had  lost  his  ''sweet  Alice."  She 
was  swallowed  up  somewhere  in  the  world.  Unless — 
the  man  suddenly  felt  that  all  that  was  worth  while 
in  his  life  was  gone.  Strange  power  of  suggestion !  In 
his  mind  was  a  picture  of  a  marble  slab  in  the  church- 
yard where  they  had  so  often  played.  In  fancy  he 
drew  near  and  read  the  name  thereon. 

With  the  pain  of  that  thought,  he  sprang  to  his  feet 
and  ended  the  song  abruptly  with  his  knock. 

When  the  maid  admitted  him  into  the  room,  Jennie 
occupied  her  seat  at  the  piano  and  Cjnithia  still  stood 
where  she  had  been  singing.  As  she  turned  toward 
him,  Henry  Parsons  stopped  short  in  astonishment,  for 
there  before  him  stood  his  companion  of  the  old  days, 
his  sweet  Alice  of  the  song.    He  had  thought  of  her  as 


HENRY  PARSONS  RETURNS 


"The   full,   round   tones   filled  the  whole  house  with   theii 
harmony." 


236  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

gone  with  the  past,  but  as  she  stood  before  him,  beauti- 
ful in  her  maturity,  a  great  wave  of  gladness  swept  over 
him  and  he  unconsciously  extended  his  hand. 

Jennie  came  to  the  rescue.  She  had  stolen  a  sly  glance 
at  her  friend  and  saw  the  color  slowly  fade  from  her 
cheeks,  and  Jennie  felt  the  first  wave  of  repentance 
sweep  over  her.  She  almost  regretted  that  she  had 
secretly  plann-ed  to  have  Cynthia  with  her  when  he 
should  come.  With  perfect  composure  she  advanced 
to  extend  to  him  the  cordial  welcome  due  him.  As  she 
gave  him  her  hand  and  looked  into  his  face  she  realized 
that  the  years  of  his  absence  had  transformed  him 
from  an  uncouth  lad  into  a  polished  man  of  the  world. 
He  was  a  liandsome  man,  much  as  his  father  had  been 
handsome  before  him — not  of  feature  or  form,  but 
rather  from  a  strange  suppression  of  power.  Jennie 
felt  that  he  was  bom  to  be  a  leader  of  men,  a  decided 
influence  for  either  good  or  evil.  There  was  that  about 
him  which  Jennie  could  not  define.  It  was  not  particu- 
larly dissipation,  hardly  deep  enough  for  that,  yet 
a  vague  something  which  savored  of  a  too  intimate 
knowledge  of  the  world.  Unconsciously  she  drew  from 
him. 

*'You  will  remember  Cynthia  also,  I  think,  Henry," 
she  spoke. 

"Yes,  indeed,"  he  responded  warmly. 

Cynthia  gave  him  her  hand  shyly.  She  was  sud- 
denly very  much  afraid.  And  Jennie  knew  that  though 
in  the  future  she  might  wear  what  she  pleased,  becom- 
ing or  otherwise,  she  would  get  only  friendly  considera- 
tion from  Henry  Parsons.  While  Cynthia,  true  to  her 


HENRY  PARSONS  RETURNS  237 

kind,  did  not  see  the  stamp  of  the  world  on  his  face ;  she 
saw  only  the  man  he  might  have  been,  the  man  she 
loyally  believed  he  would  be,  and  was  content. 


CHAPTER  24 
THE  BUILDING  OF  THE  CHURCH 

WHEN  ALL  were  in  their  places  once  more  be- 
neath the  honeysuckle,  and  Alfred  had  offered 
prayer  with  which  they  began  their  study,  he 
stood  beside  the  chair  before  them  and  said : 

''The  matter  of  choosing  a  subject  for  our  study 
to-night  has  been  something  of  a  puzzle  to  me.  One 
thing,  however,  seems  to  impress  itself  on  my  mind. 
That  is,  'the  kingdom  of  God,  or  the  church  which 
Christ  established  while  here  on  earth.*  " 

"I  was  thinking  of  asking  you  to  talk  about  the 
church,"  Bill  Lakeman  said.  "I  have  been  thinking 
about  that  all  afternoon.  There's  a  lot  I  want  to  ask 
about  the  church." 

"There  is  one  thing  we  are  going  to  do  to-night," 
Alfred  went  on,  "and  that  is,  take  several  texts.  I 
will  read  the  first  one;  it  is  found  in  the  first  part  of 
the  second  verse  of  the  ninth  chapter  of  Luke. 

"  'And  he  sent  them  to  preach  the  kingdom  of  God.' 
That  will  be  my  text. 

"Now,  Mr.  Lakeman,  you  may  read  Luke  16: 16." 

"'Since  that  time  the  kingdom  of  God  is  preached, 
and  every  man  presseth  into  it.'  " 

"That,  Mr.  Lakeman,  will  be  your  text.  Yours, 
Stanley,  will  be  found  in  the  first  sentence  of  1  Co- 
rinthians 12:13." 


BUILDING   THE    CHURCH  239 

''  'For  by  one  Spirit  are  we  all  baptized  into  one 
body.'" 

''Miss  Lakeman,  you  may  take  1  Peter  2:  5,  the  first 
sentence. ' ' 

"  'Ye  also,  as  lively  stones,  are  built  up  a  spiritual 
house.'  " 

"Mr.  Bennett,  the  last  sentence  in  1  Corinthians 
3:9." 

"  'Ye  are  God's  building.'  " 

"Now  let  us  each  keep  our  Bibles  marked,  so  we 
can  turn  to  our  texts  easily.  We  will  now  proceed  with 
our  study, ' ' 

Stooping,  he  lifted  from  the  ground  a  small  round 
case,  from  which  he  took  several  short  bits  of  metal. 
Pulling  them  apart  here,  adjusting  there,  he  stood  be- 
fore them  a  large  rack.  Delving  once  -more  into  the 
case  he  brought  out  and  commenced  unfolding  sheets 
of  paper.  Stanley's  curiosity  overbalanced  his  con- 
trol. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  with  that  thing?"  he 
asked. 

"This  will  be  used  in  our  study,"  Alfred  answered 
laughingly  as  he  attached  the  paper  to  the  rack.  Then 
from  his  pocket  he  produced  a  piece  of  crayon  and  stood 
before  them  ready  for  action. 

"Now  we  want,"  he  said,  "to  find  out  as  much  as 
we  can  about  the  church  as  left  here  by  Christ.  As  it 
is  always  best  to  begin  at  the  bottom  and  work  up, 
we  will  look  first  to  the  foundation  and  corner  stone. 
To  this  end.  Miss  Burnside,  will  you  read  1  Peter  2:6?" 

"  '  Wherefore  also  it  is  contained  in  the  scripture,  Be- 


240     ,  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

hold,  I  lay  in  Zion  a  chief  corner  stone,  elect,  precious : 
and  he  that  believeth  on  him  shall  not  be  confounded.'  *' 

*'Our  next  passage  will  be  found  in  Ephesians  2: 19- 
22.     Mr.  Lakeman,  read  it  please." 

*'  'Now  therefore  ye  are  no  more  strangers  and  for- 
eigners, but  fellow  citizens  with  the  saints,  and  of  the 
household  of  God ;  and  are  built  upon  the  foundation  of 
the  apostles  and  prophets,  Jesus  Christ  himself  being 
the  chief  corner  stone;  in  whom  all  the  building,  fitly 
framed  together,  groweth  unto  a  holy  temple  in  the 
Lord :  in  whom  ye  also  are  builded  together  for  a  habi- 
tation of  God  through  the* Spirit'  " 

**We  have  learned,"  Alfred  commented,  "that  the 
most  important  personage  in  the  temple  is  Jesus  Christ, 
'in  whom  all  the  building,  fitly  framed  together,  grow- 
eth unto  a  holy  temple  [ch^'ef  corner  stone].'  " 

As  Alfred  spoke  he  had  been  busy  with  his  crayon 
on  the  paper  before  him.  When  the  words  were  finished, 
he  stepped  back,  revealing  to  their  view  the  result  of 
his  peculiar  markings. 


''Now,  Stanley,  from  the  verse  your  father  read,  what 
did  you  learn  about  the  foundation?" 

"It  says  built  upon  the  foundation  of  the  apostles 
and  prophets." 

"Very  well." 


BUILDING   THE    CHURCH  241 

A.  few  more  marks: 


"We  have  now  the   foundation   and  corner  stone. 
Let  us  look  further  and  see  what  is  builded  into  the, 
building.     Miss  Lakeman,  will  you  read  1  Corinthians 
12:28?" 

''  'And  God  hath  set  some  in  the  church,  first  apostles, 
secondarily  prophets,  thirdly  teachers,  after  that  mira- 
cles, then  gifts  of  healings,  helps,  governments,  diver- 
sities of  tongues.'  " 

*'Now,  Miss  Burnside,  Ephesians  4: 11." 

"  'And  he  gave  some,  apostles;  and  some,  prophets; 
and  some,  evangelists;  and  some,  pastors  and  teach- 
ers.'" 

''Mr.  Bennett,  will  you  read  now  1  Timothy  3:2?" 

"  'A  bishop  then  must  be  blameless,  the  husband  of 
one  wife,  vigilant,  sober,  of  good  behavior,  given  to 
hospitality,  apt  to  teach.'  " 

"Also  the  eighth  verse." 

"  'Likewise  must  the  deacons  be  grave,  not  double- 
tongued,  not  given  to  much  wine,  not  greedy  of  filthy 
lucre.'" 

"Now,  Stanley,  what  officers  are  mentioned  in  Titus 
1:5?" 

Stanley  studied  the  passage  carefully. 

"Elders,"  he  said. 


242 


THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 


"Mr.  Lakeman,  what  is  mentioned  in  Hebrews  5:1?*' 

''High  priest,"  Bill  Lakeman  answered. 

''If  we  turn  to  Luke  10,  we  find  where  Christ  also 
sent  out  seventies." 

During  the  readings,  Alfred  had  again  been  busy 
with  his  crayon. 


"These  then,"  he  said,  "were  a  part  of  the  building 
which  the  Apostle  Paul  said  was  fitly  framed  together 
and  which  was  to  grow  into  a  'holy  temple.'  'As  lively 
stones,'  he  tells  us,  'are  built  up  a  spiritual  house.' 
The  officers  'set'  in  his  church. 

"Christ  himself,  the  great  head,  the  'chief  corner 
stone,'  an  'high  priest  after  the  order  of  Melchisedec. ' 

"Apostles. 

"Prophets. 

"Evangelists. 

"Pastors. 

' '  Teachers. 

"Bishops. 

"Deacons. 

"Elders. 

"Seventies." 

"Well,"  Bill  Lakeman  commented,  "the  church  of 


BUILDING   THE    CHURCH 


243 


Christ  to-day  appears  to  me  to  be  short  a  few  stones 
at  that  rate/' 

''I  guess  you  are  right,"  Alfred  said  as  he  exposed 
to  their  view  once  more  the  results  of  his  drawing. 


''We  now  have  the  church  of  Christ,  Mr.  Lakeman. 

What  is  wrong  with  it?" 

''Well."  The  old  man  studied  the  drawing  closely. 
"It's  a  little  better  than  some  I've  seen  because  it 
has  the  officers  in  it  that  the  Bible  speaks  of.  But 
it's  like  my  idea  of  the  church  of  to-day;  it's  dead." 

"You  are  right,  Mr.  Lakeman,"  Alfred  answered. 
' '  That  will  not  do  for  the  church  of  Christ,  for  it  lacks 
all  that  makes  it  useful  or  effective  as  an  'holy  temple.' 
Evidently  our  work  is  not  complete.  The  Apostle 
James  tells  us  that  the  body  without  the  spirit  is*  dead, 


244  THE   CALL  AT  EVENINGi 

and  Christ's  church  as  he  left  it  here  was  not  dead. 
Paul  asserts  that  'our  gospel  came  not  unto  you  in 
word  only,  but  also  in  power,  and  in  the  Holy  Ghost, 
and  in  much  assurance.'  When  Christ  left  his  church 
here  it  was  more  than  a  dead  form.  He  gave  unto 
them  the  Holy  Spirit  to  be  an  'Abiding  Comforter'  in 
his  church  and  kingdom.  So  that  whenever  the  church 
of  Christ  is  truly  operating  on  the  earth,  there  will 
be  found  'abiding'  the  Holy  Spirit  to  give  power  and 
light." 

''I  wish  that  were  true,"  Bill  Lakeman   asserted. 

"It  is  true,  Mr.  Lakeman,"  Alfred  answered  ear- 
nestly. ' '  Christ  gave  that  gift  to  his  church,  and  where- 
ever  that  church  operates  you  will  find  there  Christ 
working  with  them  through  his  Spirit." 

"Yes,  that  church,"  the  old  man  repeated,  uncon- 
vinced. 

"We  will  need  to  know,"  Alfred  continued,  abandon- 
ing the  subject,  "some  of  the  ways  in  which  the  Holy 
Spirit  imparted  light  and  understanding  to  the  church. 
Let  us  all  turn  to  1  Corinthians,  twelfth  chapter.  You 
will  notice  that  Paul  is  speaking  of  the  gifts  of  the 
Spirit,  those  things  by  which  we  may  know  that  the 
Spirit  is  truly  operating  in  the  church;  its  means  of 
granting  light.  We  will  begin  at  the  eighth  verse. 
Miss  Lakeman,  will  you  read?" 

Aunt  Sophronia  adjusted  her  glasses  and  read :  "  'For 
to  one  is  given  by  the  Spirit  the  word  of  wisdom.'  " 

"Just  a  moment,"  Alfred  broke  in;  "then  'wisdom' 
is  one  of  the  gifts  of  the  Spirit  to  the  church.  Let's 
put  it  on  our  chart."  With  a  sweep  of  his  arm  he  de- 


BUILDING   THE    CHURCH  245 

scribed  a  perfect  circle  on  the  paper  before  him.  Bill 
Lakeman  smiled  as  he  saw  a  small  round  window  appear 
on  the  side  of  the  building  he  had  designated  as  ' '  dead. ' ' 
Quickly  the  word  '^wisdom"  appeared  in  the  circle. 

"All  right,  Miss  Lakeman/' 

''  'To  another  the  word  of  knowledge  by  the  same 
Spirit.'  " 

*' Another  window." 

"  'To  another  faith.'  " 

Again  the  deit  circle  was  made  and  a  window  labeled 
''faith"  occupied  its  position.  Bill  Lakeman  was 
watching  the  proceeding  closely,  his  head  on  one  side 
and  a  merry  twinkle  in  his  eye. 

"Well,  you've  improved  the  looks  of  the  building," 
he  said.  "But  I  guess  no  church  would  quarrel  with 
you  over  those  points." 

"No,  I  think  not,"  Alfred  answered;  "however,  I 
am  not  trying  to  pick  a  quarrel  with  any  church.  I  am 
only  drawing  an  illustration  of  the  church  left  here  by 
Christ.  The  quarrel  will  probably  come,  however,  as 
a  natural  consequence,"  he  ended  laughing. 

"Now,  Miss  Lakeman,  you  may  finish  your  verse." 

"  'To  another  the  gifts  of  healing  by  the  same 
Spirit.'  " 

"Are  you  going  to  put  that  in  your  church?"  Stanley 
asked  as  he  saw  Alfred  once  more  apply  the  crayon. 

"No,"  Alfred  answered  him,  "I  am  not  going  to  put 
anything  in  my  church,  Stanley;  however,  Christ  did 
put  it  in  his.  Now,  Miss  Burnside,  will  you  read  the 
next  verse?" 

"  'To  another  the  working  of  miracles;  to  another 


246  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

prophecy;  to  another  discerning  of  spirits;  to  another 
divers  kinds  of  tongues.'  '' 

Bill  Lakeman  arose  from  his  chair  and  came  to  Al- 
fred's side  where  he  watched  him  closely  as  one  by 
one  the  windows  were  added  to  the  building.  Some- 
times his  gaze  wandered  from  the  picture  growing  under 
the  artist's  fingers  to  the  face  of  the  young  man  as  he 
bent  to  his  work.  On  his  own  face  there  was  a  shadow, 
a  question,  yet  he  held  his  peace. 

* '  We  have  now, ' '  Alfred  looked  up  from  his  drawing, 
''the  church  of  Christ  as  organized  (framed  together), 
and  lighted  by  the  power  of  the  Spirit.  Yet  our  build- 
ing is  not  complete.  It  lacks  a  door,  a  means  of  en- 
trance. Mr.  Bennett,  perhaps  if  you  will  read  the  thir- 
teenth verse,  it  will  help  us  out  along  this  line." 

*'  'For  by  one  Spirit  are  we  all  baptized  into  one 
body.'  " 

"Then  baptism  is  the  door  by  which  we  may  enter 
his  church  (body)  and  kingdom.  A  few  evenings  ago 
we  learned  from  our  study  that  faith,  repentance,  and 
baptism  of  the  water  (by  burial  or  immersion)  and 
of  the  Spirit  (through  the  laying  on  of  hands)  were 
the  first  principles  of  the  doctrine  of  Christ.  So 
they  must  also  be  builded  into  his  building." 

He  was  quiet  a  moment,  working. 

"Now,  Stanley,"  he  said,  "I  want  you  to  read  one 
more  passage  of  scripture:     Mark  16:15-18." 

"  'And  he  said  unto  them,  Go  ye  into  all  the  world, 
and  preach  the  gospel  to  every  creature.  He  that  be- 
lieveth  and  is  baptized  shall  be  saved;  but  he  that  be- 
lieveth  not  shall  be  damned.     And  these  signs  shall 


BUILDING   THE    CHURCH 


247 


follow  them  that  believe :  In  my  name  shall  they  cast 
out  devils;  they  shall  speak  with  new  tongues;  they 
shall  take  up  serpents;  and  if  they  drink  any  deadly 
thing,  it  shall  not  hurt  them;  they  shall  lay  hands  on 
the  sick,  and  they  shall  recover.'  " 

"In  this  manner,''  Alfred  commented,  ''Christ  him- 
self designates  the  powers   of  the   Spirit  which  was 


placed  in  his  church."  A  moment's  utter  silence  pre- 
vailed as  Alfred  placed  the  finishing  touches  on  his 
building  ere  he  pronounced  it  complete. 

"That  is  the  church  of  Christ,"  he  said,  "as  I  find 
it  taught  in  the  Scriptures.  Mr.  Lakeman,  does  it  still 
look  dead?" 

"No,  it  doesn't  look  dead,  Mr.  Stewart.  Your  picture 
does  not,  but  that  church  is  dead.  I  never  drew  it  out 
on  paper  as  you  have  done,  but  I've  studied  this  sub- 


248  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING' 

ject  a  lot  of  times.  What  you  have  drawn  there  is  the 
church  as  Christ  left  it  here,  all  right ;  but  what  benefit 
is  it  to  us  for  you  to  teach  us  about  it?  That  church 
is  dead,"  the  old  man  went  on  sadly.  *'It  lived  per- 
haps a  century,  then  the  apostles  died.  The  prophets 
had  died  earlier.  So  the  foundation  of  apostles  and 
prophets  wasted  away.  The  seventies  were  heard  of 
no  more.  I  think  the  doors  must  have  fallen  off  their 
hinges.  The  world  didn't  want  the  miraculous  so  they 
boarded  up  the  windows,  leaving  only  the  three  little 
ones  at  the  top.  Yes,  Mr.  Stewart,  I  figure  that  it  is  a 
pretty  dead  church  after  all." 

''Mr.  Lakeman,"  Alfred  said,  ''your  statement  is 
true.  That's  just  about  what  happened  to  the  church 
Christ  left  here.  Man  was  not  satisfied,  and  tampered 
with  it,  regardless  of  the  warning  the  Lord  had  given 
that  men  should  not  take  from,  or  add  to. 

"You  are  not  the  first  one  who  has  seen  this  con- 
dition, Mr.  Lakeman.  The  Apostle  Paul  by  the  gift 
of  prophecy  looked  forward  to  it.  He  said:  'Let  no 
man  deceive  you  by  any  means ;  for  that  day  shall  not 
come,  except  there  come  a  falling  away  first,  and  that 
man  of  sin  be  revealed,  the  son  of  perdition.' 

"Paul  knew  the  church  would  fall  away,  yet  the  pic- 
ture is  not  all  dark, ' '  the  young  man  went  on.  "  Any 
who  will  give  the  matter  serious  thought  will  come  to 
the  same  conclusion  you  have  reached.  The  church  lost 
its  spiritual  power,  lost  the  organization  given  it  by 
Christ'  yet  these  things  were  not  lost  for  eternity. 
Eemember  this:  Christ  said,  "Upon  this  rock  I  will 
build  my  church  and  the  gates  of  hell  shall  not  prevail 


BUILDING   THE    CHURCH  249 

against  it.'  He  did  not  say  that  the  tide  of  battle 
should  never  go  against  the  church.  But  he  did  promise 
that  it  should  not  prevail.  The  ultimate  victory  will 
be  with  the  church  Christ  organized.'' 

''I  hope  you  are  right,  boy,"  Bill  Lakeman  said.  ''I 
certainly  hope  you  are  right.  But  I  can't  see  how  it 
is  possible.  It  looks  to  me  like  the  gates  of  hell  have 
prevailed  a  good  long  time.  A  good  many  hundreds  of 
years  have  passed  since  the  church  you  have  pictured 
there  was  working  on  earth." 

''Yes,"  Alfred  said.  ''I  know  it,  Mr.  Lakeman.  That 
church  ceased  to  work  here  on  earth  for  a  time,  times, 
and  the  dividing  of  time,  which  is  estimated  by  Bible 
students  to  be  1,260  years.  That  is  the  period  of  what 
is  termed  the  apostasy  of  the  church  which  we  will  con- 
sider to-morrow  night.  I  think  I  have  kept  you  long 
enough  for  to-night.  It  is  getting  dark  now.  How- 
ever, before  we  leave  I  want  to  summarize  what  we 
learned  to-night. 

' '  Christ  organized  a  church  and  was  himself  the  chief 
corner  stone.  There  was  in  that  church  a  quorum  of 
twelve   apostles.     There  were  prophets." 

''I'd  like  to  ask  you  a  question  before  you  go  farther, 
Mr.  Stewart,"  Jennie  Burnside  said.  "There  were  no 
prophets  after  Christ's  time,  were  there?" 

"Many  of  them,"  Alfred  answered  her.  "The  twenty- 
first  chapter  of  Acts  mentions  some  of  them  especially 
who  were  prophets  in  Christ's  church  and  calls  them 
by  name.  I  know  the  world  would  have  us  believe 
that  prophets  were  done  away  when  Christ  came.  But 
investigation  will  show  that  not  only  were  they  not 


250  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

done  away,  but  that  there  were  many  more  after 
Christ's  time  than  before ;  for  the  Spirit  was  poured  out 
mightily  in  the  church  and  many  'spake  in  tongues  and 
prophesied.'  " 

''One  more  question,  please,"  Jennie  said.  "You 
would  not  expect  the  church  of  Christ  to  be  organized 
like  that  to-day,  would  you?" 

"Why  not?" 

"Well,  you  see  the  apostles  are  all  dead.  You 
couldn't  expect  to  have  them." 

Alfred  thoughtfully  pulled  a  leaf  from  the  honey- 
suckle at  his  side. 

"Your  question,  Miss  Burnside,"  he  answered,  "is 
an  important  one.  Upon  the  answer  to  that  question, 
hangs  the  right  of  every  church  which  comes  before  us 
to-day,  to  its  claims  to  be  the  church  of  Christ.  If 
Christ  intended,  as  many  claim,  that  there  should  be 
only  twelve  apostles  and  no  more,  then  any  of  these 
churches  may  truly  be  the  church  of  Christ.  But  if, 
as  I  believe,  Christ  placed  in  his  church  the  apostolic 
office,  intending  that  office  to  remain  in  his  church,  we 
will  need  to-day  to  look  for  that  church  which  has 
apostles  in  it  if  we  would  find  the  church  of  Christ.'  I 
do  not  mean  that  this  one  thing  alone  would  answer 
that  question,  but  it  is  among  the  things  by  which  we 
should  be  able  to  indentify  the  church  of  Christ." 

"How  can  you  tell  about  that?"  Stanley  asked. 

"Only  by  finding  out  how  it  was  with  the  church 
Christ  left.  If  there  were  never  more  than  twelve 
apostles,  then  it  would  look  as  if  the  first  claim  was 
true.     If,  on  the  other  hand,  we  find  that  one  after 


BUILDING   THE    CHURCH  251 

another  became  apostles  in  the  church  as  long  as  the 
Spirit  of  God  manifested  itself  to  the  church,  or  until 
the  church  'fell  away/  or  went  into  the  wilderness, 
then  we  can  be  assured  that  when  that  church  is  re- 
stored, there  again  will  be  apostles  in  it,  for  it  will  be 
identically  the  church  of  Christ." 

^'Can  you  do  that?"  Stanley  asked  again. 

' '  I  think  so, ' '  Alfred  returned.  ' '  I  have  a  little  chart 
here  in  my  case  which  I  drew  up  along  that  line.  I'll 
just  hang  it  here  over  the  picture  of  the  church  and 
you  can  study  it  for  a  while.  Now  it  does  not  appear 
that  these  were  all  apostles  at  the  same  time.  It  is 
more  evident  that  as  one  dropped  from  the  apostolic 
office  another  was  ordained  to  take  his  place." 

THE  FIRST  TWELVE 

1.  Simon,  called  Peter. 

2.  Andrew,  his  brother. 

3.  James,  son  of  Zebedee. 

4.  John,  his  brother. 

5.  Philip. 

6.  Bartholomew. 

7.  Thomas. 

8.  Matthew. 

9.  James,  son  of  Alpheus. 

10.  LebbEeus,  surnamed  Thaddeus. 

11.  Simon,  the  Canaanite. 

12.  Judas  Iscariot. 

ORDAINED  LATER 

13.  Matthias,  Acts  1 :  25,  26. 

14.  Barnabas,  Acts  13 : 1-4  and  Acts  14 :  14. 


252  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

15.  Saul,  Acts  14:14  and  Acts  13:1-4. 

16.  Silvanus,  1  Thessalonians  1:1;  2:6. 

17.  Timotheus,  1  Thessalonians  1 : 1 ;  2 :  6. 

18.  James,  the  Lord's  brother,  Galatians  1:19. 

19.  Apollos,  1  Corinthians  4:6-9. 

"Well,  that's  more  than  twelve,"  Stanley  commented 
when  he  had  studied  the  chart  before  him. 

''My  contention  is  this,"  Alfred  said:  ''Christ  him- 
self set  those  offices  in  the  church.  He  never  at  any 
time  said  they  should  not  be  there  or  that  they  should 
be  taken  away.  I  do  not  believe  any  man  or  set  of 
men  had  a  right  to  take  from  the  church  any  office  or 
set  of  offices  which  Christ  placed  there." 

"You're  right,  boy,  in  that,"  Bill  Lakeman  approved. 

All  was  quiet  a  moment,  and  Alfred  took  up  once 
more  his  interrupted  summary. 

"We  found  in  the  church,"  he  said,  "apostles,  proph- 
ets, evangelists." 

"Most  churches  have  evangelists,  haven't  they?"  Jen- 
nie asked  again. 

"Not  in  the  church,"  Alfred  answered.  "We  do  find 
such  a  title  attached  to  certain  men  among  the  churches. 
They  are  generally  working  for  any  church.  An  evan- 
gelist would  preach  in  this  city  for  one  church  to-day; 
next  month  you  would  probably  find  him  preaching  for 
another  church  whose  teachings  and  belief  radically 
differ  from  the  one  for  whom  he  preached  to-day. 
Christ  set  his  evangelists  '  in  the  church. '  He  never  in- 
tended to  make  spiritual  jumping  jacks  out  of  them." 

Bill  Lakeman  laughed  but  said  nothing.  Jennie  con- 
tinued her  questions  earnestly. 


BUILDING  THE  CHURCH  253 

*'Do  you  not  regard  those  men  as  broad  minded ?'* 
she  asked.  ''That  seems  to  me  only  an  evidence  that 
they  are  not  narrow." 

*'To  me,"  Alfred  said  thoughtfully,  ''the  ministry 
of  Christ  are  left  in  his  stead,  as  physicians  to  the 
church,  quite  as  much  as  they  are  left  to  be  ministers  to 
convert  the  world.  'Feed  my  sheep,'  was  Christ's  in- 
structions. Look  after  'the  flock,'  Paul  warned.  Now 
if  as  these  men,  who  preach  as  readily  for  one  denomina- 
tion as  for  another,  will  tell  us  it  takes  all  these  churches 
to  make  the  church  of  Christ,  it  is  then  their  duty  as 
spiritual  physicians  to  combat  the  disease  and  dis- 
order they  find  in  the  body  of  Christ.  What  would  you 
think  of  Doctor  Lakeman  here,  if  you  called  him  to 
combat  a  severe  case  of  stomach  trouble  and  when  the 
diagnosis  was  made  he  would  refuse  to  mention  that 
disordered  condition,  and  would  only  assure  you  that 
the  lungs  were  in  perfect  working  order?  You  wouldn't 
think  of  him  as  a  broad-minded  physician;  you  would 
look  upon  him  as  a  moral  coward,  who  was  afraid  to 
look  the  real  trouble  in  the  face  and  fight  it.  Now, 
that  is  the  condition  of  the  religious  world,  as  I  see  it. 
To-day,  when  I  went  down  town,  I  passed  a  certain 
corner  on  which,  almost  facing  each  other,  stood  two 
great  church  buildings.  Now,  if  they  are  both  the 
church  of  Christ,  why  were  they  not  worshiping  under 
the  same  roof,  listening  to  the  same  instructions  from 
the  same  minister?  The  answer  is  easy:  they  could  not 
agree  upon  certain  doctrinal  points.  In  other  words, 
there  were  schisms,  divisions,  or  disorders  among  them. 
Now  if  one  of  these  spiritual  physicians,  called  evan- 


254  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

gelists,  came  along  do  you  think  he,  in  preaching  to 
these  two  congregations,  would  attack  those  disagree- 
ments or  disorders  and  set  them  right,  that  they  might 
in  the  future  worship  in  unity;  or  would  he  ignore 
those  points  of  difference  and  preach  only  along  those 
lines  where  he  knew  he  would  find  agreement?" 

''You  would  never  know,"  Bill  Lakeman  said,  ''that 
a  difference  existed,  to  listen  to  his  sermons." 

"That  is  why,"  Alfred  said,  "that  instead  of  con- 
sidering those  men  broad  minded,  they  appear  to  me  to 
be  moral  cowards." 

"Before  we  say  good-night,"  the  young  man  con- 
tinued, ' '  I  wish  you  would  each  take  a  list  of  the  officers 
found  in  Christ's  church,  also  a  list  of  references. 
Check  it  over  carefully  for  yourself,  for  this  is  a  vital 
question  and  I  do  not  want  you  to  take  my  word  for 
the  matter,  but  rather  seek  the  truth  for  yourselves. 
Those  officers  are: 

"Apostles.  Elders. 

' '  Prophets.  Seventies. 

"Evangelists.  High  priests. 

"Pastors.  Teachers. 

"Bishops.  Deacons. 


?> 


And  so  the  night  fell  softly  over  hill  and  valley, 
forest  and  lake,  enveloping  in  its  sweet  restfulness  all 
the  world. 


CHAPTER  25 
JOHN  BENNETT'S  BIG  FIGHT 

CLANKETY— clank !  Bang !  Clankety— clank. ' ' 
John  Bennett  looked  up  from  his  loom  over  which 
he  bent,  with  a  slight  frown.  One  of  the  slender 
silken  threads  which  wove  itself  almost  imperceptibly 
into  the  fabric  snapped,  and  John  Bennett  felt  that  he 
had  cause  to  frown.  He  stepped  quickly  to  the  side  of 
the  loom  and  threw  back  the  lever.  Instantly  the  great 
machine  was  silent,  the  shuttle  poised  just  on  the  point 
of  making  its  dash  between  the  crossed  layers  of  woolen 
and  silken  threads  which  it  was  rapidly  transforming 
into  cloth. 

''What's  the  matter,  Bennett?'' 

The  foreman  stopped  by  the  loom  and  watched  John 
Bennett  make  the  tie. 

"Those  silk  threads  are  hard  to  manage,  sir,"  the 
weaver  replied.  ''One  of  them  just  broke  but  I  think 
it  will  not  show  much  when  the  piece  is  finished." 

"That's  well  tied,  Bennett." 

The  foreman  straightened  up  from  his  inspection  of 
the  work.  "That's  the  reason  I  gave  you  this  piece 
to  weave.  I  wouldn't  trust  another  weaver  in  this  house 
with  that  piece  of  cloth." 

"It's  coming  out  well,"  he  added,  running  his  hand 
over  a  portion  of  the  finished  product.  Then  he  laughed 
is  he  stood  back  and  surveyed  the  cloth  before  him. 


256  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

*'I  suppose  somebody  will  call  that  brown.  The  green 
and  red  are  hidden  just  enough  to  give  it  that  effect. 
How  do  you  like  it,  Bennett?" 

''It's  the  finest  thing  that  has  passed  through  my 
hands  this  year,  sir.     It  will  easily  form  your  lead." 

''I  think  so  myself,"  the  other  answered.  He  leaned 
forward  suddenly  and  ran  his  finger  over  certain  por- 
tions of  the  cloth. 

''Now  that's  just  what  I  wanted,"  he  said.  "That 
blue  thread  is  given  just  the  right  amount  of  promi- 
nence. That's  the  beauty  of  the  piece  to  me.  Not  the 
things  the  ordinary  person  will  see,  but  the  things 
they  must  look  for  to  find.  Yes,  sir,  that's  well  woven. 
Don't  hurry  it.  I'll  try  to  get  you  an  increase  of  rate 
on  this  so  you  can  afford  to  go  carefully." 

"Thank  you,  sir."  John  Bennett  raised  his  hand  to 
throw  his  loom  once  more  into  action.  The  foreman 
stopped  him  with  a  gesture. 

"What's  the  matter,  Bennett?"  he  asked.  "Your 
hand  is  not  often  unsteady.  Didr^'t  you  have  your 
usual  drink  this  morning?" 

"I  did  not,  sir!"  John  Bennett  cut  the  words  short. 
It  was  evident  he  battled  with  ill  humor.  It  was  also 
unpleasant  to  have  a  matter  brought  to  mind  which  he 
was  trying  so  hard  to  forget. 

"You  haven't  quit,  have  you?"  the  other  questioned 
mercilessly. 

"I  have!"  The  words  almost  hissed  from  his  teeth. 
The  foreman  versed  in  his  kind  knew  something  of  his 
suffering.  He  shook  his  head  and  the  gesture  seemed 
to  say  it  was  useless.    He  had  seen  men  of  John  Ben- 


JOHN  BENNETT'S  BIG  FIGHT  267 

nett's  class  try  to  quit  before.  He  had  not  meant  to 
be  unkind,  but  his  lack  of  faith  only  irritated  the  al- 
ready overwrought  nerves  of  the  man  before  him. 

' '  I  tell  you  I  have  quit. ' '  His  raised  voice  was 
drowned  by  the  steady  roar  of  the  machines  about  him. 
Only  the  foreman  heard.  ''It  will  probably  kill  me  to 
do  it,  but  I'd  rather  be  dead  than  be  a  beastly  drunk- 
ard.'' 

''There,  there,  Bennett,  I  didn't  mean  to  offend  you. 
I  was  only  surprised,  that's  all.  I'm  glad  to  see  you 
quit.  You're  too  valuable  a  man  to  throw  yourself 
away  on  drink.  Why,  I'd  a  fired  you  long  ago  if  I 
could  have  filled  your  place.  Stick  to  it,  Bennett; 
stick  to  it.     You  have  my  best  wishes." 

The  man  moved  on  in  his  tour  of  inspection.  After 
a  while  l^e  looked  back  to  where  John  Bennett  still 
stood  by  the  side  of  his  silent  loom. 

"Poor  devil,"  he  murmured. 

Then  he  saw  the  object  of  his  solicitude  put  on  his 
battered  hat  and  go  out. 

"I  thought  so,"  he  continued  his  self-communion. 
"He  had  to  go  for  his  drink.  Couldn't  stand  it  any 
longer.  Well,  that  would  have  been  the  end  sooner  or 
later,  so  it  really  doesn't  matter." 

However,  the  foreman  was  mistaken.  John  Bennett 
had  not  gone  for  a  drink.  He  walked  up  the  street  away 
from  the  direction  of  Mike  Farrell's  saloon  and  turning 
the  corner,  took  the  short  s'de  street  which  led  to  the 
little  patch  of  timber  on  the  edge  of  town.  In  his  soul 
raged  a  terrific  battle.  His  very  being  was  on  fire,  and 
as  he  walked  he  w^et  his  dry  lips  often.    He  tore  open 


258  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

the  front  of  his  shirt  hoping  vainly  that  a  cool  draught 
of  air  might  ease  the  parched  condition  of  his  throat. 

"Hell,"  he  murmured.  ''It's  hell  on  earth.  I  wish, 
0  God,  I  wish  that  bullet  had  gone  home." 

He  reached  the  end  of  the  street  and  dropped  down 
on  a  hollow  log  under  the  shade  of  a  great  oak  tree 
and  let  his  head  sink  into  his  hands.  Great  drops  of 
sweat  n'ot  caused  by  the  heat  of  the  day,  gathered  on 
his  brow.  The  muscles  of  his  face  were  drawn  and  his 
huge  frame  trembled  with  the  intensity  of  his  suffering. 
After  a  while  he  sprang  to  his  feet. 

''It's  no  use,"  he  said  fiercely.    "I  can't  do  it." 
He  started  forward  as  though  to  retrace  his  steps, 
then  stopped  suddenly. 

"Of  course  you  can't  do  it — not  alone." 
He  looked  around  him  in  astonishment,  trying  to  lo- 
cate the  voice ;  then  he  laughed.  He  knew  that  he  only 
heard  in  fancy  the  words  Alfred  Stewart  had  said  to 
him  that  day  in  the  woods;  knew  that  memory  had 
tricked  him  and  the  words  only  came  to  him  out  of  the 
past.  He  sat  down  once  more  on  the  log  and  let  his 
mind  run  back  to  that  other  day.  He  heatd  again  the 
prayer  and  understood  now  the  words  he  had  not  com- 
prehended then. 

"Of  course  you  can't  do  it — not  alone." 
His  head  dropped  once  more  into  his  hands,  but  not 
now  with  an  attitude  of  despair,  and  the  first  prayer 
he  could  remember  passed  his  lips. 

"God  help  me,"  he  prayed.     "God  help  me." 
The  shriirmill  whistle  announced  that  the  noon  hour 
had  arrived.    Immediately  from  the  doors  of  both  mill 


JOHN   BENNETT'S   BIG   FIGHT  259 

and  factory  poured  a  steady  stream  of  workers.  The 
machinery  was  quiet  and  very  soon  the  streets  were  de- 
serted. 

John  Bennett  did  not  move  when  the  whistle  blew. 
Indeed  he  had  not  even  heard  it  in  its  blowing.  He 
still  sat  on  the  log  beneath  the  oak  and  thought  of  the 
struggle  before  him.  There  would  be  no  dinner  for 
him  this  day;  he  had  quite  forgotten  it.  The  hope- 
lessness had  gone  from  his  face,  and  while  the  burn- 
ing in  his  veins  was  unabated,  yet  from  some  source 
had  come  strength  of  spirit  to  withstand.  Finally  as 
one  o'clock  drew  near,  he  arose  and  retraced  his  steps 
toward  the  mill  and  his  loom.  He  had  taken  up  again 
his  burden  and  felt  again  his  determination  to  win. 

He  shuddered  when  he  realized  that  this  was  pay 
day  and  that  he  would  find  it  necessary  to  walk  with 
full  pockets  past  Mike  Farrell's  saloon.  In  fancy  he 
could  see  the  crowd  who  usually  aAvaited  him  there,  who 
knew  of  this  night  and  were  always  eager  to  join  him 
in  the  carousals  which  accompanied  it.  As  he  threw 
his  loom  into  action,  he  uttered,  unconsciously  now, 
his  prayer,  ''God  help  me." 

As  the  afternoon  wore  away,  Alfred  Stewart  looked 
up  from  his  study  and  consulted  his  watch. 

''It's  later  than  I  thought,"  he  murmured  hastily, 
putting  his  books  away.  ' '  I  promised  Bennett  to  walk 
home  with  him  from  the  mill.  I'd  hate  to  miss  him 
to-night." 

A  few  moments  later  he  entered  the  lane  on  his  way 
to  town.  In  his  heart  he  feared  that  his  delay  might 
be  fatal,  and  endeavored  to  increase  his  walking  speed. 


260  THE   CALL  AT  EVENINQ 

He  felt  a  degree  of  impatience  that  the  crutch  should 
so  retard  his  progress.  About  one  hundred  yards  north 
of  the  lane  entrance  he  encountered  the  first  sidewalks 
leading  into  town  and  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief,  for 
here  he  could  walk  much  faster.  Choosing  the  most 
direct  route  to  the  plant  which  furnished  so  many  of 
the  poor  of  Leesburg  with  employment  he  hurried  on, 
thankful  that  Leesburg  was  not  large  and  that  not 
many  blocks  separated  him  from  his  destination. 

Turning  a  corner  suddenly,  he  saw  the  brick  and 
frame  buildings  composing  the  plant,  at  the  foot  of  a 
hill  about  four  blocks  distant,  and  smiled  as  he  realized 
that  the  mill  was  still  running.  He  would,  after  all,  he 
thought  be  in  time.  The  smile  with  that  thought  was 
short  lived,  for  accompanying  a  sudden  burst  of  steam 
the  whistle  screamed  its  message  and  Alfred  could  see 
far  below  him  the  stream  of  employees  pouring  from 
its  doors. 

He  quickened  his  pace,  hoping  that  John  Bennett 
would  wait  for  him,  and  sickened  as  he  thought  of  the 
whisky-weakened  will  of  the  man  who  must  trust  him- 
self to  pass  the  saloon  alone.  When  Alfred  reached  the 
mill,  all  was  quiet.  John  Bennett  was  nowhere  in  sight, 
but  down  the  street  he  saw  a  desolate  figure  and  knew 
that  John  Bennett  was  making  the  trip  alone. 

The  young  man  hastened  after  him  hoping  vainly  to 
overtake  him.  He  longed  to  throw  the  crutch  away  and 
try  his  school-day  sprinting,  but  prudence  overruled 
and  he  banished  the  thought.  Presently  John  Bennett 
turned  the  corner  and  Alfred  lost  sight  of  him.  Once 
more  he  tried  to  increase  his  speed  for  he  knew  that 


JOHN  BENNETT'S   BIG   FIGHT  261 

not  far  from  that  corner  was  the  levee  and  Mike 
Farrell's  saloon. 

He  did  not  know  that  several  blocks  behind  him,  can- 
tering easily,  were  Spider  and  Stanley  Lakeman.  Stan- 
ley had  recognized  the  figure  with  the  crutch  and  smiled 
in  anticipation  of  overtaking  him.  A  short  word  to 
Spider  and  the  little  animal  broke  from  her  canter  and 
started  off  at  a  brisk  pace. 

Suddenly  an  exclamation  broke  from  Stanley's  lips: 
''Oh,  that  boy,''  he  cried.  ''Hey,  Stewart,"  but  his 
voice  was  lost  in  the  distance. 

Alfred  Stewart  suddenly  reaching  the  corner  had  seen 
something  which  caused  him  for  one  brief  moment  to 
stand  as  one  paralyzed.  Then,  with  one  sweep  of  his 
arm,  he  sent  the  crutch  flying  into  the  weeds  and  broke 
into  a  run.  Stanley  groaned  aloud  when  he  saw  him 
limp  painfully  ere  he  lost  sight  of  him  behind  the 
buildings  . 

' '  Oh,  that  foot, ' '  he  said.    ' '  Go,  Spider. ' ' 

As  Spider  took  the  corner  on  a  dead  run,  Stanley 
had  another  surprise,  for  he  saw  Alfred  Stewart  force 
back  the  swinging  doors  of  Mike  Farrell's  saloon,  and 
enter. 

' '  What  in  the  world  ? ' '  Stanley  exclaimed,  and  threw 
himself  from  the  saddle,  reaching  the  sidewalk  with  one 
bound.  Then  he,  too,  pushed  inward  the  swinging  door 
and  was  lost  to  view. 

When  Stanley  Lakeman  found  himself  inside  Mike 
Farrell's  place  this  is  what  he  saw: 

At  the  rear  of  the  room  with  his  back  to  the  wall 
John  Bennett  crouched  like  a  tiger  ready  to  spring, 


262  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

his  cheeks  flushed,  his  eyes  glowing  with  a  fierce  light. 
Before  him,  measuring  his  full  length  on  the  floor, 
stretched  a  man  who  was  raising  himself  slowly  to  his 
elbow.  Stanley  caught  fleetingly  the  bewildered  look 
on  his  face.  He  had  no  time,  however,  to  contemplate 
these  things,  for  John  Bennett's  catlike  attitude  sud- 
denly materialized  in  a  forward  spring  and  as  if  with 
one  motion  his  arm  flew  out  and  caught  with  his  doubled 
fist,  on  the  point  of  the  chin,  another  who  had  dared  to 
interfere.  The  man's  head  flew  back  and  Stanley  saw 
him  crumple  with  a  groan  and  fall  in  a  heap  against 
the  counter,  carrying  with  him  to  the  floor  a  shower  of 
broken  glass. 

John  Bennett  swung  his  arms  wildly. 

' '  Come  on ;  make  me  drink  if  you  can.  Come  on, ' '  he 
yelled  his  challenge  to  a  third  of  the  same  type  who 
was  closing  in  on  him.  Stanley  saw  them  meet  fero- 
ciously; then  the  thud  of  a  falling  body  attracted  his 
attention  to  another  part  of  the  room. 

Alfred  Stewart  was  likewise  engaged.  His  antago- 
nist, more  nearly  matching  his  strength,  had  gone  down 
only  after  a  lively  struggle,  and  Alfred  was  panting 
with  labored  breath  as  he  stood  with  clenched  fists 
watching  narrowly  as  the  other  endeavored  to  regain 
his  feet. 

Then  Stanley  saw  that  which  brought  him  into  action 
himself,  for  crouched  and  creeping,  a  malignant  expres- 
sion on  his  beastly  face,  Mike  Farrell  was  slipping  upon 
Alfred  from  the  back.  Had  he  expected  the  attack, 
Stanley  could  never  have  handled  Mike  Farrell,  for 
that  individual  had  kept  some  semblance  of  order  in 


JOHN   BENNETT'S   BIG   FIGHT  263 

his  saloon  by  sheer  muscular  force  and  none  who  knew 
him  dared  go  against  him  or  against  his  sharp-spoken 
orders.  But  Stanley  did  not  know,  and  upon  this  fact 
hung  the  outcome  of  that  day's  battle.  Without  hesita- 
tion he  grabbed  the  crouching  figure  by  each  shoulder 
and  threw  him  back  against  the  door  where  his  head 
struck  the  jamb  with  such  force  as  to  stun  him  for  a 
time  into  inaction.  Stanley  stepped  to  Alfred's  side 
and  stooping  over  pulled  the  man  before  him  to  his  feet. 

''Now  see  here,  Mart,"  he  said,  ''you  go  over  there 
and  take  that  chair  and  behave  yourself.  It  isn't 
healthy  for  you  to  monkey  around  here. ' ' 

The  ruffian  slunk  away,  muttering  as  he  went. 

Mike  Farrell's  befogged  brain  had  cleared  somewhat 
and  he  struggled  to  his  feet  with  a  wicked  gleam  in  his 
eyes  and  a  snarl  on  his  lips  which  betokened  no  good  to 
his  assailant.  When  he  recognized  his  offender  the 
snarl  died  perceptibly  on  his  lips. 

"It  won't  do,  Farrell,"  Stanley  said.  "You  stay  out 
of  this  fight." 

"You  take  him  out,"  the  enraged  whisky  vendor 
spluttered,  indicating  Alfred.  ' '  No  man  can  come  into 
my  saloon  and  raise  hell  with  my  customers — not  while 
Mike  Farrell's  got  two  good  hands.  Take  him  out,  I 
say." 

But  Mike  Farrell  did  not  venture  again  from  behind 
the  counter.  He  stood  there  and  poured  a  steady 
stream  of  oaths  at  Alfred  Stewart. 

Meanwhile  the  fight  in  the  rear  of  the  room  went  on. 
John  Bennett  found  himself  facing  now  an  antagonist 
who  would  not  go  down  before  his  blows.     His  own 


264  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

face  was  bleeding  from  a  cut  above  the  eye  while  his 
opponent's  sight  was  dimmed  by  the  pain  of  a  broken 
nose.  When  Stanley  and  Alfred  were  free  once  more 
they  saw  the  two  men  locked  in  a  terrific  embrace. 
Back  and  forth  they  swayed,  neither  daring  to  break 
his  hold  upon  the  other.  They  staggered  against  the 
table  and  the  clatter  of  breaking  glass  filled  the  room ; 
then  John  Bennett's  foot  struck  against  the  reeking 
cuspidor  and  the  slimy,  filthy  substance  which  filled  it 
oozed  into  the  great  cracks  of  the  floor  and  finally  cov- 
ered its  surface.  John  Bennett  made  a  desperate  effort 
to  break  the  other's  hold,  but  his  foot  come  in  contact 
with  the  slippery  mass  and  he  staggered  backward.  He 
was  saved  from  a  fatal  fall  only  by  striking  the  old 
iron  stove,  left  standing  from  the  winter  before,  and 
used  now  only  as  a  receptacle  of  refuse  and  a  container 
of  tobacco  juice.  As  it  was,  the  old  stove  was  pushed 
from  its  improvised  brick  legs  and  the  pipe  clattered 
down  upon  their  heads  with  a  terrific  din.  Soot  covered 
and  gasping  for  breath  their  embrace  was  broken  and 
by  mutual  consent  they  stood  facing  each  other  waiting 
only  the  opportuiiicy  to  grapple  again. 

''Here,  you,"  Mike  Farrell  thundered,  taking  advan- 
tage of  the  brief  respite.  ''Stop  that  fight;  stop,  I 
say." 

And  both  men,  long  accustomed  to  obeying  that  voice, 
relaxed  unbeaten.  Yet  on  John  Bennett's  face  was  a 
light  of  triumph.  Not  against  his  opponent;  he  had 
not  won  there,  but  the  greater  battle  with  himself  was 
won,  and  he  was  glad. 

"Come  on,  Bennett,  let's  go  home,"  Stanley  urged, 


JOHN   BENNETT'S   BIG  FIGHT  265 

adding  the  weight  of  his  own  influence  to  the  effect  of 
Mike  Farrell's  threat.  With  characteristic  meekness 
John  Bennett  joined  them  without  once  glancing  at  his 
erstwhile  enemy. 

As  the  doors  swung  behind  them  they  heard  Mike 
Farrell  take  up  once  more  his  interrupted  stream  of 
profanity. 

When  they  had  gained  the  walk  Stanley  took  charge 
of  the  situation. 

''Come  down  to  the  creek,  Bennett/'  he  said,  **and 
we'll  see  the  extent  of  that  cut  on  your  face.  It  won't 
do  to  let  your  wife  see  you  looking  like  that. ' ' 

They  stepped  through  the  dust-covered  weeds  to  the 
highway,  crossed  the  road,  and  descended  the  bank  to 
where  the  waters  flowed  freely  below.  Here  they  washed 
the  blood  and  soot  from  his  face  and  found  that  his 
injury  was  only  slight. 

''I  don't  understand  this  at  all,"  Stanley  said.  "I 
don't  see  how  you  ever  got  into  that  kind  of  a  mess." 

'*I  knew  it  had  to  come,"  John  Bennett  replied.  ''The 
only  way  you  can  break  with  those  fellows  is  with  a 
fight  and  I'm  glad  it's  over. 

"You  see  they  were  waiting  for  me.  They  knew  it 
was  pay  day  at  the  mill  and  naturally  expected  I  would 
treat.  I  told  them  I  had  quit  drinking  and  didn't  want 
to  go  in.  They  thought  I  was  joking  and  of  course 
they  all  laughed.  Then  they  knew  I  meant  it.  To  re- 
fuse to  drink  with  them  was  in  itself  a  personal  insult, 
and  they  knew  I  knew  it.  It  might  have  been  different 
if  South  Johnson  hadn't  been  in  the  crowd.  He's  never 
satisfied  so  long  as  there's  a  man  in  the  crowd  he  hasn't 


266  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

had  a  fight  with.  So  my  time  with  him  was  coming 
anyhow. 

''When  he  heard  me  say  1  had  quit  drinking  he  in- 
timated that  I  had  joined  the  church,  and  they  thought 
that  was  a  bigger  joke  than  ever.  He  said:  'Well,  I 
guess  you  will  take  a  drink,  little  man,'  and  they  began 
pulling  me  in.  At  first  I'm  afraid  I  didn't  care  enough. 
You  see  I  was  burning  up  for  a  drink  myself,  and  I 
thought,  'Oh,  what's  the  use?'  But,"  he  laughed  as 
though  he  felt  quite  guilty,  "I  found  myself  saying 
over  and  over,  'God  help  me,'  and  I  guess  he  did,  for 
when  we  were  through  that  door  it  somehow  looked 
different  to  me.  I  can't  see  now  how  I  ever  willingly 
stepped  into  it.  I  must  have  been  blind.  Something 
seemed  to  come  over  me  and  I'd  a  died  before  I'd  take 
a  drink.  Just  then  somehow  I  wasn't  afraid,  although 
I  know  that  bunch.  Some  of  them  would  have  knifed 
me  before  I  got  out  if  you  fellows  hadn't  come.  They 
never  would  fight  fair  in  a  pinch. 

"I  knew  what  it  meant,  so  I  backed  up  against  the 
wall  so  they  couldn't  get  behind  me  and  told  them  if 
they  wanted  to  fight  to  come  on,  but  I  wouldn't  drink 
a  drop  of  their  damned  stuff.  Excuse  me,  sir,"  he 
added  turning  to  Alfred.    That  young  man  only  smiled. 

"I  heard  you  say  that,"  he  said.  "I  came  in  just  then. 
They  intended  to  double  on  you;  I  stopped  part  of 
that." 

"I'm  glad  you  came,  sir,"  John  Bennett  said;  "I'd 
forgotten  that  I  had  asked  you,  but  I'm  glad  you  came." 

They  climbed  the  bank  again  and  stood  once  more 
upon   the   highway.     John  Bennett   pulled   from  his 


JOHN   BENNETT'S   BIG   FIGHT  267 

pocket  his  pay  envelope,  unopened,  and  held  it  out  for 
their  inspection. 

"I'm  going  home  now,"  he  said  with  a  glad  ring  to 
his  voice.     "I'm  going  home  to  Mary." 

Alfred  Stewart  held  out  his  hand  and  John  Bennett 
wrung  it  earnestly.  Stanley  laid  his  hand  on  his 
shoulder.  • 

"I'm  mighty  proud  of  you  to-night,  Bennett.  That 
was  a  great  fight.    A  great  fight." 

Together  they  watched  him  go  north  along  the  levee, 
cross  the  bridge,  and  disappear  down  the  trail  leading 
to  his  home. 

"I  had  started  down  there,"  Stanley  said,  "hut  I 
don't  think  I'll  break  in  on  that  little  woman's  hour  of 
happiness.  I'll  see  the  babe  to-morrow.  Besides,  that 
foot  of  yours  probably  needs  attention  again.  Oh,  I 
wanted  to  get  hold  of  you  when  I  saw  you  throw  that 
crutch  away  and  run.  How  did  you  ever  come  to  do 
it?" 

"I  had  to,"  Alfred  said.  "I  was  trying  to  overtake 
Bennett  because  I  was  afraid  for  him  to  go  past  that 
place  alone.  Just  as  I  got  to  the  corner  I  saw  those 
men  pulling  him  into  the  saloon.  They  were  taking  him 
in  by  force.  When  I  saw  that,  I  forgot  all  about  the 
foot.  I'm  afraid,"  he  added  laughing,  "there  was  al- 
most murder  in  my  heart  about  then.  I  know  there 
was  fight." 

"Yes,  I  guess  there  was  iight,"  Stanley  agreed.  "I 
just  wish  you  could  have  seen  the  picture  you  and 
Bennett  made  when  I  got  there.  Oh,  it  was  rich ! 
But  did  you  see  Mike  Farrell  's  little  game  ? " 


268  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

''Yes,  it  would  have  been  a  great  deal  worse  if  you 
hadn't  come.  Bennett  and  I  couldn't  have  held  them 
all,  but  say,  would  you  have  believed  Bennett  was  the 
powerful  man  he  is?    He  doesn't  look  it." 

''No,  he  doesn't,"  Stanley  agreed.  "He  gave  John- 
son all  he  could  handle,  and  Johnson  is  no  scrub  him- 
self.   It  was  a  great  -fight. 

"I  can't  see,"  he  said  seriously,  "why  a  civilized 
country  allows  a  place  like  that  to  run.  I  just  can't 
see  it." 

"Money  worship,"  Alfred  said. 

They  had  retraced  their  steps  to  where  the  crutch  so 
hastily  thrown  aside  still  lay  among  the  weeds.  Stan- 
ley recovered  it  and  whistled  to  Spider. 

"Now  you  get  on  and  ride  home,"  he  ordered.  "I'm 
more  than  anxious  to  know  the  extent  of  the  damage 
done  to  that  foot." 

"It  does  hurt,"  Alfred  admitted,  "but  I  couldn't  help 
it;  I  just  had  to  run." 

"I  know,"  Stanley  said,  "I'm  not  blaming  you.  I 
think  I  would  have  blamed  you  if  you  hadn't.  The  only 
thing  now  for  us  to  do  is  to  repair  damages." 

When  they  reached  home  they  found  Aunt  Sophronia 
carefully  keeping  the  supper  warm  for  them,  while 
Bill  Lakeman  arranged  the  chairs  and  tables  under  the 
honeysuckles  for  the  evening  study.  When  Stanley  had 
examined  the  foot  he  seemed  to  be  relieved. 

"Not  so  bad  as  I  feared,"  he  said:  "beyond  a  little 
soreness  I  think  there  is  nothing  serious.  But  I'll  tell 
you  I  was  afraid  when  I  saw  you  run.  Visions  of  a 
man  crippled  for  the  rest  of  his  life  were  going  through 


JOHN   BENNETT'S   BIG   FIGHT  269 

my  head.  .  .  .  That's  just  what  I  want,  aunt.  Here, 
Stewart,  keep  your  foot  in  this  hot  water  while  we  eat. 
That  will  draw  some  of  the  soreness  out." 

Supper  over,  they  assembled  once  more  beneath  the 
honeysuckle.  Bill  Lakeman  was  already  in  his  chair 
bending  over  his  great  Bible. 

''Father,  where  do  you  suppose  I  found  Stewart  to- 
night?" Stanley  asked  as  they  came  up  to  him. 

The  old  man  glanced  at  Alfred's  crimson  face  and 
scented  a  joke. 

*'I  couldn't  guess,"  he  said. 

**In  Mike  Farrell's  saloon.  Now  what  do  you  think 
of  that?"  Stanley  set  himself  on  the  edge  of  one  of  the 
tables  and  let  his  feet  swing  in  boyish  fashion.  His 
black  eyes  snapped  with  mischief.  "That's  not  the 
worst  of  it  either.    He  was  having  a  fight." 

Bill  Lakeman  leaned  back  in  his  chair  and  looked  at 
his  son  keenly.  There  was  a  half  smile  in  the  glance 
he  shot  at  Alfred. 

''And  where  were  you,  Stanley,  when  you  found 
him?" 

Alfred  laughed  heartily  as  the  boomerang  came  back 
at  Stanley,  but  that  young  man  was  unshaken. 

"Well,  father,  I'm  not  a  preacher,"  he  argued. 
"Think  of  a  preacher  in  a  saloon!" 

"Well,  out  with  it,"  the  old  man  laughed.  "I  never 
could  stop  you  when  you  wanted  to  tell  anything." 

So  Stanley  told  his  father  of  the  fight  at  Farrell's, 
and  of  John  Bennett's  victory. 

Bill  Lakeman  was  jubilant. 

"That  fight  will  do  more,"  he  declared,  "to  make 


270  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING    ; 

him  keep  his  pledge  than  anything  else  in  the  world. 
Stewart,  it  was  a  lucky  thing  you  missed  him  at  the 
mill.  Yes,  sir;  that  will  be  a  great  thing  for  Bennett. 
But  if  you  hadn't  both  been  there  it  might  have  ended 
differently.  Yes,  sir,"  he  repeated,  ''that  was  a  good 
day's  work." 

"There  comes  Bennett,  now,"  Stanley  said.  ''Look 
how  he  carries  himself,  his  head  up  and  his  shoulders 
back.    Jove !  It  looks  good  to  see  that  kind  of  a  change." 

"He's  won  back  his  self-respect,"  Bill  Lakeman  said. 
"That's  the  biggest  thing  for  a  man.  When  he  can't 
respect  himself  there  is  no  foundation  to  build  on.  We 
will  now  just  begin  to  get  acquainted  with  Bennett, 
because  he  will  begin  to  get  acquainted  with  himself." 

The  object  of  their  conversation  swung  through  the 
gate  and  up  the  walk  to  the  honeysuckle.  There  was 
genuine  good  fellowship  in  the  "Good  evening"  with 
which  he  greeted  them.  It  was  with  a  new  grace  of 
manner  that  he  took  the  chair  Bill  Lakeman  offered 
him. 

"I  wonder  where  Jennie  is,"  Stanley  said.  "We 
can't  study  without  her." 

"She'll  be  here  soon,"  Bill  Lakeman  promised. 

His  prediction  was  fulfilled,  for  at  that  moment 
Jennie  and  her  mount  appeared,  emerging  from  the 
grove. 


CHAPTER  26 
WHAT  BECAME  OF  THE  CHURCH 

LAST  NIGHT  in  our  study,"  Alfred  said,  ''we  con- 
sidered the  church  or  kingdom  of  God,  and  Mr. 
Lakeman  made  the  statement,  'That  church  is 
dead.'  I  think  he  voiced  one  of  the  great  acts  in  the 
tragedy  of  this  world,  for  the  statement  is  literally  true. 
The  church  organized  and  left  here  by  Christ  disap- 
peared from  the  face  of  the  earth.  It  is  what  we  term 
'the  apostasy'  of  the  church,  or,  as  the  Apostle  Paul 
puts  it,  the  'falling  away.'  So  as  we  studied  last  n^ght 
the  church  organized,  we  will  to-night  follow  that 
church  through  its  subsequent  history,  through  its 
sickness  and  death.  We  will  use  for  a  foundation  of 
our  study,  2  Thessalonians  2:3:  'Let  no  man  deceive 
you  by  any  means :  for  that  day  shall  not  come,  except 
there  come  a  falling  away  first,  and  that  man  of  sin  be 
revealed,  the  son  of  perdition.'  In  connection,  Mr. 
Lakeman,  will  you  read  2  Timothy  4:3?" 

"  'For  the  time  will  come,'  "  Bill  Lakeman  read, 
"  'when  they  will  not  endure  sound  doctrine;  but  after 
their  own  lusts  shall  they  heap  to  themselves  teachers, 
having  itching  ears.'  " 

"I  bring  these  two  passages,"  Alfred  said,  "to  show 
you  that  the  Apostle  Paul  fully  understood  in  his  time 
just  what  would  take  place.  How  deeply  he  felt  this 
we  learn  from  his  parting  plea  to  the  elders  of  Ephesus. 


/ 

/ 
.   •    / 

/ 

272  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING      ' 

Miss  Burnside,  will  you  read  it  from  Acts  20:28-30?*' 
**  'Take  heed  therefore  unto  yourselves,  and  to  all 
the  flock,  over  the  which  the  Holy  Ghost  hath  made  you 
overseers,  to  feed  the  church  of  God,  which  he  hath 
purchased  with  his  own  blood.  For  I  know  this,  that 
after  my  departing  shall  grievous  wolves  enter  in 
among  you,  not  sparing  the  flock.  Also  of  your  own 
selves  shall  men  arise,  speaking  perverse  things,  to 
draw  away  disciples  after  them.  Therefore  watch,  and 
remember,  that  by  the  space  of  three  years  I  ceased  not 
to  warn  every  one  night  and  day  with  tears.'  " 

''Thus  we  see,'*  Alfred  went  on,  "how  earnestly  the 
apostles  fought  away  this  condition  for,  it  seems,  the 
first  few  centuries.  However,  in  the  third  century  the 
words  of  the  apostles  began  to  be  fulfilled.  Speaking 
of  that  time  Mosheim  tells  us  that  the  'face  of  things 
began  to  change  in  the  Christian  church.'  The  apostle 
had  said,  speaking  directly  to  the  ministry:  'Of  your 
own  selves  shall  men  arise  speaking  perverse  things.' 
So  it  came  that  in  the  third  century  the  ministers  began 
to  forget  the  admonition  of  Christ  to  go  without  'purse 
or  scrip,'  and  indulged  themselves  in  luxurious  living. 
The  bishop  set  up  a  throne  and  surrounded  himself  with 
ministers.  They  began  to  burn  incense  in  many  of  the 
churches  and  to  observe  many  rites  and  ceremonies. 
By  the  end  of  the  fourth  century,  Mosheim  again  tells 
us,  there  was  left  only  a  'mere  shadow  of  the  ancient 
church  government.' 

"By  the  latter  part  of  the  fifth  century,  prayers  to 
the  saints  and  to  the  Virgin  Mary  were  introduced.  In 
the  sixth  century,  the  church  had  so  far  forgotten 


WHAT  BECAME  OF  THE  CHURCH  273 

the  meek  and  lowly  Nazarene  that  whole  nations  were 
forced  to  accept  Christianity  on  penalty  of  death. 
Orders  of  monks  were  introduced  and  papal  power  be- 
came supreme.  During  this  century  the  monks  became 
very  rich  through  gifts  from  the  people.  The  use  of 
holy  water  was  also  introduced  during  that  period. 

''In  the  eighth  century  the  worship  of  images  became 
so  great  that  some  of  the  Christians  of  the  Greek 
church  formed  themselves  into  a  body  of  image  break- 
ers, to  destroy  what  they  believed  to  be  idolatry.  These, 
however,  were  excommunicated  in  869. 

''In  the  ninth  century  the  doctrine  of  transubstan- 
tiation  was  introduced.  Predestination  also  began  to  be 
taught. 

"In  the  tenth  century  the  worship  of  the  Virgin  Mary 
became  so  intense  as  to  almost  equal  that  of  Christ.  It 
was  also  during  this  century  that  the  rosary  was 
introduced. 

"In  the  eleventh  century  the  popes  received  the  title : 
'Masters  of  the  world.' 

"From  the  twelfth  to  the  sixteenth  century  the 
church  waged  the  terrible  persecutions  against  those 
who  undertook  to  translate  the  Bible  and  allow  it  to  be 
read  by  the  people. 

"From  the  sixteenth  to  the  eighteenth  century  we 
see  the  coming  forth  of  the  different  reformers. 

"Now  let  us  look  at  the  church.  By  this  time  the 
quorum  of  twelve  apostles  had  disappeared ;  the  seven- 
ties were  gone;  the  ordinance  of  baptism  had  been 
changed.  The  laying  on  of  hands  for  the  gift  of  the 
Holy  Ghost  was  not  practiced  after  the  fifth  century. 


274  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING      / 

Prophets  no  longer  warned  the  people.  Teachers  were 
forgotten.  The  organization  of  the  church  was 
changed;  the  offices  of  popes  and  cardinals  had  come 
into  existence. 

' '  So  the  church  was  dead,  and  in  its  place  stood  one 
utterly  unlike  the  church  Christ  had  left.  He  had  given 
them  warning:  'Ye  shall  not  add  unto  the  words  which 
I  command  you,  neither  shall  ye  diminish  aught  there- 
from. ' 

"The  church  had  done  both.  Therefore  the  church 
was  dead.  No  longer  did  she  exist  divinely  commis- 
sioned from  on  high. 

' '  This  has  been  a  long  statement,  yet  it  is  only  a  few 
of  the  changes  which  were  made  in  the  church.  The 
Lord  knew  what  was  coming  and  sent  forth  his  mighty 
warning  through  John  the  Revelator.  The  picture  is 
given  in  the  twelfth  chapter  of  Revelation.  We  will 
listen  while  Mr.  Lakeman  reads  the  first  verse." 

"  'And  there  appeared  a  great  wonder  in  heaven;  a 
woman  clothed  with  the  sun,  and  the  moon  under  her 
feet,  and  upon  her  head  a  crown   of  twelve  stars.'  " 

''We  are  given  here,"  Alfred  commented,  "a'  picture 
of  the  church  in  its  power,  'clothed  with  the  sun'  and 
crowned   with   twelve   stars." 

"What  do  the  twelve  stars  mean?"  Stanley  asked. 

"Christ  left  with  the  church,"  Alfred  answered,  "a 
quorum  of  twelve  apostles  who  had  the  oversight  of  the 
church.  As  long  as  these  remained  the  church  retained 
her  power;  she  kept  her  magnificent  robe,  described  as 
the  sun.  Now,  Stanley,  read  the  next  two  verses, 
please. ' ' 


WHAT  BECAME  OF  THE  CHURCH  275 

''  'And  she  being  with  child  cried,  travailing  in  birth, 
and  pained  to  be  delivered.  And  there  appeared  an- 
other wonder  in  heaven ;  and  behold  a  great  red  dragon, 
having  seven  heads  and  ten  horns,  and  seven  crowns 
upon  his  heads. '  ' ' 

''Well,  I  don't  understand  that  at  all,''  Stanley  said. 
"If  the  woman  is  the  church,  what  is  the  dragon?" 

' '  The  second  verse  of  the  twentieth  chapter  of  Reve- 
lation will  answer  your  question,  Stanley.  You  may 
read  it  if  you  like." 

"  'And  he  laid  hold  on  the  dragon,'  "  Stanley  read, 
"  'that  old  serpent,  which  is  the  Devil,  and  Satan,  and 
bound  him  a  thousand  years.'  " 

' '  The  Devil  ? ' '  Stanley  questioned.  ' '  This  is  getting 
interesting." 

He  turned  the  pages  once  more  and  read  again  the 
passages  Alfred  has  assigned  him. 

"  'A  great  red  dragon,  having  seven  heads.'  Now 
what  does  that  mean?"  he  questioned  further.  "I 
never  heard  of  Satan  having  seven  heads  before. ' ' 

Alfred  and  Bill  Lakeman  laughed  at  his  impatience. 

' '  Well,  I  want  to  know  about  this, ' '  Stanley  defended, 
"There's  no  use  in  its  being  in  the  Bible  if  we  cannot 
understand  it." 

"You  are  right,  Stanley,"  Alfred  answered;  "it 
would  not  be  in  the  Bible  if  it  could  not  be  understood. 
Revelation  17 :  9  tells  us  what  the  seven  heads  are.  Mr. 
Lakeman,  will  you  look  it  up?" 

The  old  man  studied  the  verse  carefully. 

"The  seven  heads  are  seven  mountains,"  he  said. 


276  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING      / 

''Seven  mountains!  The  Devil  with  seven  moun- 
tains!" Stanley's  voice  was  incredulous. 

''Stanley,"  Alfred  said,  "can't  you  think  of  seven 
hills  that  have  been  prominent  enough  in  the  history  of 
the  world  to  attract  the  attention  of  even  the  God  of 
heaven  ? ' ' 

"I  can't  think  of  anything,"  Stanley  answered  after 
a  moment's  thought,  "except  the  seven  hills  upon  which 
Rome  was  built. 

' '  That  must  be  it, ' '  he  added  musingly.  ' '  That  place 
was  devilish  enough  to  suit  anybody.    Was  that  it?" 

"I  think  you  have  guessed  it,"  Alfred  answered. 

"Well,"  Stanley  said  again,  "do  I  dare  ask  any 
more  questions?" 

"Ask  your  questions,  Stanley,"  his  father  encour- 
aged; "it's  the  only  way  to  learn." 

"I'm  glad  to  have  you  ask  questions,"  Alfred  said. 
"Each  question  helps  us  to  arrive  at  a  clearer  concep- 
tion of  the  truth.  I  think  you  are  entirely  right  in 
associating  the  dragon  of  the  vision  we  are  considering 
with  Rome.  Rome  at  the  time  of  this  vision  ruled  over 
practically  all  of  the  known  world.  The  kings  of  the 
earth  came  to  it  with  their  riches  and  partook  of  its 
pleasures  and  its  sins.  You  have  studied  the  history 
and  know  the  full  extent  of  her  sinfulness.  It  is  small 
wonder  that  the  Devil,  or  dragon,  chose  it  for  his  seat 
of  government.  There  was  possibly  no  spot  on  earth 
so  wicked. 

' '  Thinking  of  it  in  that  light,  can  you  see  the  fulfill- 
ment of  the  vision  in  the  attitude  of  Rome  toward  the 
early  Christian  church?" 


WHAT  BECAME  OF  THE  CHURCH  277 

**I  guess  that's  right,"  Stanley  replied.  ''Rome  did 
all  in  her  power  to  exterminate  the  Christians.  It's 
remarkable  what  they  had  to  endure  during  the  first 
three  or  four  centuries." 

''If  we  will  turn  to  the  seventh  chapter  of  Daniel," 
Alfred  went  on,  "we  will  learn  something  more  of  this 
matter.  The  Lord  is  here  showing  the  prophet  a  picture 
of  the  future,  from  the  time  in  which  he  lived  down  to 
the  end. 

' '  We  cannot  take  time  to-night  to  read  it  all,  but  you 
will  see  that  Daniel  in  his  vision  is  shown  four  beasts 
coming  up  out  of  the  sea  (verse  3).  He  tells  us  that 
the  first  beast  is  like  a  lion,  the  second  like  a  bear,  the 
third  like  a  leopard;  but  the  fourth  beast,  the  most 
terrible  of  all,  he  cannot  classify.  Speaking  of  this 
beast,  he  said  it  was  dreadful,  and  terrible,  and  exceed- 
ingly strong.  He  tells  us  it  had  great  iron  teeth,  that 
it  devoured  and  brake  into  pieces,  and  stamped  the 
residue  with  the  feet  of  it.  He  also  tells  us  it  had  ten 
horns  (verse  7)." 

' '  Ten  horns  ? ' '  Stanley  repeated.  ' '  It  must  have  been 
the  same  as  this  dragon,  for  it  had  horns. ' ' 

"Yes,"  Alfred  agreed,  "that  is  its  mark  of  identifi- 
cation. Now  we  will  see  if  you  were  right  in  saying 
it  was  Rome.    Mr.  Bennett,  will  you  read  verse  23?" 

John  Bennett  read :  "  '  Thus  he  said,  The  fourth  beast 
shall  be  the  fourth  kingdom  upon  earth,  which  shall  be 
diverse  from  all  kingdoms,  and  shall  devour  the  whole 
earth,  and  shall  tread  it  down,  and  break  it  in  pieces.'  " 

"Now,"  Alfred  said,  "we  have  learned  that  these 
beasts  represent  kingdoms.    The  first  beast  or  kingdom 


278  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

should  be  the  one  in  which  Daniel  was  living  at  the 
time.  That  was  the  Babylonish  kingdom.  What  fol- 
lowed that?    Can  you  tell  us,  Miss  Burnside?'' 

''The  Medes  and  ^Persians,  I  think." 

''The  Medes  and  Persians,"  Alfred  confirmed.  "Now, 
Mr.  Lakeman,  what  followed  the  Medes  and  Persians  ? ' ' 

"The  Greek  kingdom  under  Alexander  the  Great." 

"Thus  the  third  beast,"  Alfred  said,  "represented 
the  Greek  kingdom.  We  could  prove  this  further  by  the 
four  heads  and  four  wings  if  we  had  time.  Each  of 
these  kingdoms  in  its  turn  ruled  over  the  smaller  king- 
doms around  it." 

"That  brings  us  now  to  the  fourth  or  most  terrible 
beast.  Stanley,  what  was  the  next  great  world  power 
after  the  Greek?" 

"Rome,"  Stanley  answered. 

"Yes,"  Alfred  went  on,  "the  bea^t  with  the  seven 
heads — mountains — and  ten  horns. ' ' 

"What  do  you  understand  by  the  ten  horns?"  The 
question  came  timidly  from  Jennie. 

' '  The  Bible  tells  us  that  the  ten  horns  were  ten  kings. 
Rome  differed  from  the  others  in  this  respect.  Its  life  as 
a  strong  nation  was  much  longer  than  the  other  three 
shown  in  the  vision.  Only  one  strong  king  each  had 
ruled  over  Babylon  and  Greece,  only  two  strong  kings 
over  the  Medes  and  Persians,  while  ten  strong  kings 
ruled  over  Rome.  The  other  kingdoms  had  been 
strong,  yet  when  viewed  in  comparison  with  Rome 
they  had  been  weak." 

"We  will  now  turn  again  to  the  twelfth  chapter  of 
Revelation,"    Alfred   went    on.      "We    have    already 


WHAT  BECAME  OF  THE  CHURCH  279 

learned  that  the  beast  stood  before  the  woman  ready 
to  devour  her  child  when  it  was  born.  Miss  Burnside, 
how  was  the  child  saved  from  him  ? ' ' 

''This  says  he  was  caught  up  to  heaven/'  Jennie 
answered. 

''Yes,"  Alfred  said,  "when  the  child  was  born  it  was 
caught  away  and  taken  back  to  the  throne  of  God.  Thus 
it  was  that  the  kingdom  of  God  was  lost  from  the  earth. 
Christ  was  no  longer  with  the  church  by  the  power  of 
his  Spirit.  Will  you  tell  us,  Stanley,  if,  after  her  child 
was  taken,  the  woman  was  able  to  stand  longer  before 
the  dragon?" 

"This  tells  us  that  the  woman  fled  into  the  wilder- 
ness." 

' '  The  church  could  not  stand  alone  before  the  Devil. 
The  time  had  come  when  communication  from  heaven 
to  earth  had  ceased.  History  tells  us  how  speaking  in 
tongues  and  prophecy  vanished  during  the  third  and 
fourth  centuries.  The  elders  were  no  longer  made 
'overseers  by  the  Holy  Ghost.'  The  people  began  to 
heap  to  themselves  teachers.  The  Lord  no  longer  spoke 
and  said:  'Separate  nnto  me  .  .  .  for  the  work  where- 
unto  I  have  called  them.'  So  it  was  that  the  condition 
Mr.  Lakeman  mentioned  last  night  came  about.  The 
kingdom  of  God  and  his  Christ  was  taken  back  to  the 
throne  and  the  church  was  lost  in  the  wilderness.  Now, 
Stanley,  read  the  last  verse  of  this  chapter." 

"  'And  the  dragon  was  wroth  with  the  woman,  and 
went  to  make  war  with  the  remnant  of  her  seed,  which 
kept  the  commandments  of  God,  and  have  the  testi- 
mony of  Jesus  Christ.'  " 


280  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

**Now  we  will  come  once  more  to  Daniel  7.  Mr. 
Lakeman,  will  you  read  verses  8  and  21  ?  The  prophet 
is  now  speaking  of  the  beast  with  the  ten  horns/* 

**  'I  considered  the  horns,'  "  the  old  man  read,  '*  'and, 
behold,  there  came  up  among  them  another  little  horn, 
before  whom  there  were  three  of  the  first  horns  plucked 
up  by  the  roots:  and,  behold,  in  this  horn  were  eyes 
like  the  eyes  of  man,  and  a  mouth  speaking  great 
things.  I  beheld  the  same  horn  made  war  with  the 
saints  and  prevailed  against  them.'  '' 

''Now,  Mr.  Bennett,  will  you  read  Revelation  13:  7?" 

"  'And  it  was  given  unto  him  to  make  war  with  the 
saints,  and  to  overcome  them.'  " 

"So  we  see  the  fate  of  the  church,"  Alfred  said; 
"her  child  taken  from  her  back  to  God's  throne,  over- 
come by  the  dragon,  swallowed  up  in  the  wilderness." 

"Well,  I  can't  see,"  Bill  Lakeman  said,  "why  Christ, 
if  he"  is  greater  than  the  Devil^and  he  undoubtedly 
is — should  allow  the  Devil  to  overcome  his  church. 
Why  didn't  he  use  his  power  to  protect  them  from  the 
Devil?    That's  what  I  can't  see." 

"Mr.  Lakeman,"  Alfred  said,  "I  should  like  to  tell 
you  a  story.  There  was  once  a  great  war.  Opposing 
each  other  in  the  conflict  were  two  generals,  the  great- 
est the  world  has  ever  known — so  great,  in  fact,  that 
there  never  could  be  two  others  like  them. 

"However,  one  of  these  generals  was  much  greater 
than  the  other,  so,  although  his  force  of  men  and  the 
number  of  officers  under  him  were  very  small,  when  he 
led  them  forth  to  battle  they  prevailed  over  the  hosts 
of  the  enemy.    And  the  enemy  feared  them,  for  though 


WHAT  BECAME  OF  THE  CHURCH  281 

so  few  they  were  mighty  in  battle.  However,  there  came 
a  time  when  the  captain  of  the  little  band  found  it 
necessary  to  return  to  the  capital  city,  to  confer  for  a 
time  with  his  father,  the  king  (for  he  was  prince  of 
a  mighty  house),  at  the  seat  of  government. 

''Before  he  left,  he  called  his  officers  together  and 
left  with  them  plans  for  the  carrying  on  of  the  battle. 

"  'If  you  will  carry  out  these  plans,'  he  told  them, 
'the  enemy  cannot  prevail  against  you,  and  I,  myself, 
will  send  you  special  instructions  by  a  messenger  who 
shall  travel  constantly  from  the  capital  city  to  you. 
He  will  inform  you  of  the  movements  of  the  enemy 
before  they  take  place,  and  you  will  know  how  and 
where  to  meet  them. 

"  'In  due  time  I  will  come  again  unto  you,  and  re- 
ward you  greatly  for  your  work.  But  be  very  care- 
ful to  do  the  things  I  have  told  you,  that  you  may 
not  fall  into  the  hands  of  the  enemy.' 

"With  that  he  left  them,  and  with  his  plans  in  their 
hands  they  took  up  once  more  the  battle  with  the  hosts 
before  them. 

"True  to  the  prediction  of  their  captain,  they  pre- 
vailed, and  felt  very  joyful  whenever  they  saw  the 
hosts  of  the  enemy  put  to  flight  by  the  fighting  of  their 
little  band. 

"However,  the  victory  was  not  always  easily  won, 
for  the  captain  against  whom  they  fought  was  very 
strong  and  very  cunning. 

"Some  fell  in  battle,  others,  having  served  faith- 
fully their  allotted  time,  were  recalled  with  honor  to 
their  capital  city,  while  the  messenger,  traveling  con- 


282  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

stantly  between  the  capital  city  and  the  army,  told  them 
whom  the  captain  wished  to  have  fill  their  places,  and 
many  other  things  of  great  importance  to  them. 

''But  after  a  time  those  leaders  ceased  to  study  the 
plans  so  closely  and  began  to  say  within  themselves: 
'What  need  have  we  of  the  messenger?  Are  we  not 
able  to  go  against  this  army  alone  ?  Are  we  not  mighty, 
even  mighty  in  battle?  Behold  these  plans  which  he 
has  left  us  are  not  good.  Many  things  in  them  are  not 
needful  in  our  warfare.  Therefore  we  will  not  ob- 
serve to  do  them.' 

"Now  when  the  messenger  had  brought  word  of  this 
to  the  captain,  he  felt  very  sorrowful,  and  arose  im- 
mediately and  dispatched  unto  them  a  mighty  message 
of  warning,  in  which  he  pictured  to  them  what  the  out- 
come of  this  matter  would  be. 

"When  the  messenger  had  brought  to  them  this  warn- 
ing, they  grumbled  and  complained  and  said:  'The 
words  of  our  captain  are  hard  to  be  understood ;  behold 
his  message  is  sealed,  that  we  cannot  understand.*  But 
they  did  not  ask  the  messenger  to  explain  to  them  the 
message,  and  he  returned  to  the  capital  city  with  a 
sorrowful  heart.  And  the  captain  mourned  over  his 
army  because  they  would  no  longer  hear  his  words 
and  endeavor  to  do  them. 

"  'What  message,  0  prince,*  the  messenger  asked 
of  him,  'would  you  have  me  take  to  the  army?  Perhaps 
now  they  may  hear  me.' 

"But  the  prince  answered  sadly:  'They  have  trans- 
gressed the  laws,  changed  the  plans,  and  broken  the 
covenant  (Isaiah  24:  5),  therefore  does  the  enemy  over- 


WHAT  BECAME  OF  THE  CHURCH  283 

come  them  (Revelation  13:7),  and  wear  them  out 
(Daniel  7 :  25),  and  my  mighty  army  is  destroyed.  Only 
a  few  are  left  and  the  enemy  shall  greatly  make  war 
with  them.  They  are  now  given  into  his  hands  until 
they  have  learned  that  their  own  strength  and  wisdom 
are  unavailing.  Then  you  may  go  again  with  a  message, 
and  among  the  few  who  will  hear  you  will  we  organize 
again  my  army  and  destroy  utterly  the  enemy  until  he 
shall  be  heard  of  no  more.  Rest  here  in  peace  until 
the  time  shall  be  fulfilled,'  " 

The  story  ended,  Bill  Lakeman  sat  lost  in  thought  for 
some  time;  then  he  spoke: 

''I  guess  you  are  right,"  he  said.  ''I  guess  that's 
just  about  what  happened.  They  changed  his  laws  and 
twisted  his  church  around  in  such  a  manner  that  you 
couldn't  even  recognize  her.  Yes,  I  guess  that's 
right.  The  world  wouldn't  listen  and  Christ  wouldn't 
compel  them  to  obey  him;  he  just  let  the  D'evil  have 
them  for  a  time  to  see  how  they'd  like  the  change 
of  rule." 

''Yes,"  Alfred  said,  ''the  church  was  so  changed 
that  even  the  apostles,  who  had  seen  her  in  vision, 
saw  her  as  a  strange  woman,  when  the  spirit  caught 
her  away  into  the  wilderness.  He  saw  the  church,  not 
at  enmity  now  with  the  great  red  dragon,  but  riding  in 
state  upon  his  back.  Let's  turn  and  read  it.  Miss 
Burnside,  we  will  listen  to  you." 

"  'So  he  carried  me  away  in  the  spirit  into  the  wilder- 
ness,' "  Jennie  read,  "  'and  I  saw  the  woman  sit  upon 
a  scarlet  colored  beast,  full  of  names  of  blasphemy, 
having  seven  heads  and  ten  horns.     And  the  woman 


284  THE  CALL  AT  EVENINQ 

was  arrayed  in  purple  and  scarlet  color,  and  decked 
with  gold  and  precious  stones  and  pearls,  having  a 
golden  cup  in  her  hand  full  of  abominations  and  filthi- 
ness  of  her  fornication/  '* 

"Now  the  sixth  verse." 

'*  'And  I  saw  the  woman  drunken  with  the  blood  of 
the  saints,  and  with  the  blood  of  the  martyrs  of  Jesus: 
and  when  I  saw  her  I  wondered  with  great  admira- 
tion.' '' 

**Was  it  the  same  woman?"  Jennie  questioned. 
** Surely  the  church  could  not  do  that." 

''The  same,"  Alfred  answered,  "yet  not  the  same. 
True,  she  was  still  called  the  church,  but  oh,  the  con- 
trast! Changed  in  form  and  dress,  she  no  longer 
walked  with  Christ  dressed  in  linen  clean  and  white, 
but  partook  of  the  favors  of  Rome  and  doled  out  her 
sins  and  her  darkness  to  the  kings  of  the  earth.  Riches 
decked  her,  but  not  the  grace  of  the  Spirit  of  God. 
The  time  had  come  when  the  'man  of  sin'  exalted  him- 
self above  'all  that  is  called  God'  and  sat  in  what  the 
world  considered  to  be  the  'temple  of  God.'  So  the 
church  was  dead.  It  no  longer  sent  out  its  mes- 
sage of  salvation.  In  the  words  of  Isaiah,  'The 
Lord  hath  poured  out  upon  you  the  spirit  of  deep  sleep 
.  .  .  the  prophets  and  your  rulers,  the  seers  hath  he 
covered.'  The  earth  had  entered  its  midnight  of  dark- 


CHAPTER  27 
HENRY  PARSONS  SET  ADRIFT — AND  CAUGHT  AGAIN 

HENRY  PARSONS  stood  at  the. window  in  the 
library  looking  out  over  the  roadway  and  across 
the  strip  of  well-kept  lawn  to  where  in  times 
gone  by  had  stood  the  widow's  cottage,  and  to  which, 
still  traceable  to  the  close  observer,  a  pathway  led, 
made  by  the  repeated  impress  of  childish  feet. 

The  cottage  had  disappeared,  but  as  the  young  man 
gazed  it  stood  once  more  in  its  place  as  of  yore  and 
overflowed  with  life  and  cheer. 

He  whistled  a  low  tune,  and  on  his  handsome,  worldly 
face  was  written  a  strange  wistfulness  which  had  so 
lately  come  to  him.  Since  his  visit  to  the  Bumside 
home  a  picture  had  been  in  his  mind,  and  vague  and  in- 
tangible as  it  was,  that  picture  was  gradually  working 
a  change  in  his  heart.  No  longer  the  things  which  had 
yesterday  formed  the  structure  of  his  life,  seemed  im- 
portant. A  relative  view  of  values  had  not  yet  come. 
It  was,  as  we  said  before,  nothing  tangible,  yet  the  un- 
certain feeling  of  a  man  in  whom  a  transformation  of 
character  is  taking  place. 

His  father  felt  something  of  all  this  as  he  watched 
him,  and  that  feeling  raised  a  fear  in  his  heart  that  the 
plans  so  fondly  cherished  might  after  all  come  to 
naught.    A  moment  later  he  asked: 

**You  dined  at  the  Burnside's  yesterday,  I  believe? 
Did  you  find  all  well  with  them?" 


286  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

"Splendid,"  his  son  returned ;  "it  was  a  very  pleasant 
day.  I'm  afraid  I  remained  longer  than  strict  con- 
ventionality demanded." 

"Ah."  Squire  Parsons 's  face  lighted.  After  all,  he 
reasoned,  his  fears  were  groundless. 

"She  is  a  beautiful  girl,"  he  added  meditatively,  yet 
watched  his  son  closely. 

Immediately  there  arose  before  the  abstracted  mind 
of  the  younger  man  a  picture  of  a  beautiful  girl  with 
golden-brown  hair  and  starry  eyes,  which  looked  at 
him  half  in  fear,  half  in  welcome,  and  he  heard  again 
the  strains  of  the  song : 

Oh,  don't  you  remember 
Sweet   Alice,    Ben   Bolt? 

"She  is,  indeed,"  he  answered  with  more  warmth 
than  the  occasion  demanded. 

Squire  Parsons 's  smile  was  fraught  with  satisfaction. 
He  dismissed  all  fear  from  his  mind  and  considered 
for  a  time  the  best  manner  in  which  to  broach  the  sub- 
ject uppermost  in  his  mind. 

"Marion  Burnside,"  he  went  on  in  a  confidential 
tone,  "is  in  rather  straitened  circumstances  financially. 
That  is  not  generally  known.  I  think  his  daughter 
does  not  know.  All  his  investments  have  not  turned 
out  well." 

"Why,  the  woolen  mills  are  paying,  aren't  they?" 
the  young  man  asked  in  surprise.  "They  seem  to  be 
running  steadily." 

"Yes,  but  mortgaged,"  the  father  returned.  "Every- 
thing he  has  is  mortgaged,  even  his  home." 


HENRY  PARSONS  SET  ADRIFT  287 

"I  can  hardly  make  myself  believe  it,"  Henry  Par- 
sons asserted  again.  ''I  thought  he  was  making  money 
fast." 

''Well,  don't  say  anything,"  the  older  man  cautioned. 
"Most  people  think  that,  and  he  may  pull  through.  I 
figure  there  is  about  one  chance  for  him,  and  that  lies 
with  his  daughter." 

Henry  Parsons 's  eyes  opened  wide  in  astonishment. 

''How  can  that  be?"  he  asked. 

' '  Well,  if  she  marries  right  and  her  husband  manages 
her  property  carefully,  they  can  clear  the  factory 
and  then  in  turn  the  home." 

"I  didn't  know  his  daughter  had  any  property," 
the  young  man  said  half-questioningly. 

"Yes,"  Squire  Parsons  answered,  "she  owns  one 
third  interest  in  the  C.  P.  Company.  I  think  that  in- 
terest could  be  made  to  pay  off  her  father's  other  in- 
debtedness. As  I  said  before  it  would  all  depend  on  her 
husband." 

"Well,  I  can't  see,"  Henry  Parsons  observed,  "where 
the  husband  comes  in.  Why  can't  Marion  Burnside 
attend  to  her  affairs  himself  ? " 

"He  has  no  control  over  this  property  and  can't  do 
it,  while  a  husband  does  have  a  certain  amount  of  con- 
trol over  the  wife 's  property. ' ' 

"Well,"  Henry  Parsons  said  meditatively;  "is  she 
planning  marriage?" 

"Not  that  I  know  of,"  Squire  Parsons  returned, 
"but  it's  time  she  married  somebody." 

After  a  moment's  silence  the  older  man  continued: 
"Now  if  a  young  man  like   yourself,  Henry,  should 


288  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING. 

get  in  there,  it  would  be  a  fine  thing.  When  Marion 
Burnside  is  gone  Jennie  is  the  only  heir.  Those  woolen 
mills  are  too  fine  a  thing  for  a  mortage  like  that  to  take. 
A  man  may  just  as  well  take  those  things  into  con- 
sideration when  he  chooses  a  wife." 

Henry  Parsons  wheeled  from  his  place  at  the  window 
and  faced  his  father  with  a  peculiar  expression  on  his 
face. 

*'I  have  no  desire  to  'get  in'  there,  father,"  he  said 
with  a  slight  tone  of  anger  in  his  voice. 

His  father  frowned.  Stormy  scenes  between  them  had 
begun  in  the  boy's  childhood,  and  Squire  Parsons  did 
not  desire  that  they  should  be  renewed  so  quickly 
upon  his  return.  Moreover,  Squire  Parsons  was  not 
accustomed  to  having  his  plans  fail  or  of  having  others 
not  concur  with  his  arrangements ;  hence  the  frown. 

''Why  not?"  he  questioned,  battling  to  keep  control 
of  a  temper  which  always  flamed  quickly  in  the  sanctity 
of  his  own  home. 

"Because  I  don't,"  the  young  man  answered,  taking 
his  stand  once  more  at  the  window  and  resuming  his 
tune. 

Henry  Parsons  knew  his  father,  knew  him  well;  and 
the  very  tenseness  of  the  atmosphere  told  him  that  one 
of  their  old-time  quarrels  was  brewing.  It  was  such 
a  scene  that  had  terminated  in  his  departure  several 
years  before.  During  the  interval,  his  father  had 
cheerfully  granted  him  an  allowance  as  payment  for  the 
peace  to  be  obtained  by  his  absence. 

"Now  see  here,  Henry,"  Squire  Parsons  began,  striv- 
ing to  maintain  the  smoothness  of  his  tone,  yet  the 


HENRY  PARSONS  SET  ADRIFT  289 

grayish  pallor  which  overspread  his  face  belied  the 
calmness  of  the  exterior.  '^Let  us  talk  this  thing  over 
calmly.    Jennie  Burnside  is  a  beautiful  girl.'* 

''I  know  she  is,"  Henry  Parsons  responded. 

'^Furthermore,  it  is  necessary  for  you  to  marry  some 
woman  with  means,  for  you  are  fully  aware  that  you 
will  never  be  able  to  make  your  own  way  in  the 
world." 

The  young  man  recoiled  before  the  words  of  his 
father.  It  was  evident  that  a  tender  spot  had  been 
reached. 

''Whose  fault  is  it?"  he  questioned  darkly.  "I  am 
just  what  you  have  made  me." 

"That  being  true,"  Squire  Parsons  went  on  not 
heeding  his  son's  remark,  "you  will  need  to  marry  in 
that  station  which  will  not  make  effort  on  your  part 
necessary." 

"Father,"  the  young  man  turned  and  strode  to  the 
center  of  the  room  where  he  faced  his  father,  the  light 
of  unfeigned  anger  in  his  eyes,  "I  know  I'm  no  good, 
but  I'll  tell  you  one  thing.  I'd  rather  go  out  there  and 
dig  in  a  ditch  for  my  living  than  go  on  being  forever 
a  good-for-nothing,  who  can  neither  respect  himself 
nor  demand  respect  from  others." 

"That  sounds  very  nice,"  Squire  Parsons  sneered, 
"but  I'll  tell  you  one  thing,  no  son  of  mine  digs  in  any 
ditch.  I've  labored  too  long  to  build  up  my  name  for 
that." 

"Well,  you  needn't  fear,"  his  son  asserted;  "no 
decent  ditch  foreman  would  give  me  a  job  if  I  asked 
for  one.     You've  done  your  work  too  well  for  that." 


290  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING. 

''Now  look  here,  Henry."  The  squire's  voice  trem- 
bled as  he  spoke.  ''That  kind  of  talk  won't  get  us  any- 
where. I'm  going  to  tell  you  frankly  that  your  marriage 
to  Jennie  Burnside  is  necessary.  I  told  you  a  moment 
ago  something  of  Marion  Burnside 's  financial  standing. 
My  own  is  little  better,  and  I  have  given  this  matter 
a  lot  of  thought.  Some  money  has  to  be  made  and  made 
quickly  to  save  us  both.  Your  marriage  to  Jennie 
Burnside  would  make  this  possible.  We've  got  to  get 
hold  of  some  stock  Jennie  Burnside  owns.  I  didn't 
intend  to  tell  you  this  and  would  not  if  it  had  not  be- 
come necessary.  We  've  got  to  have  that  stock  or  we  '11 
go  to  the  wall  and  then  where  will  you  be?" 

"What  have  you  and  Burnside  been  doing?"  his  son 
questioned  unsympathetically.  "You  must  have  made 
some  bad  moves  somewhere." 

"That  has  no  bearing  whatever  on  this  question," 
the  other  answered.  ' '  The  point  is  that  the  stock  which 
Jennie  Burnside  owns  is  our  only  means  of  extricating 
ourselves." 

"Then  why  don't  you  buy  it?"  the  young  man  ques- 
tioned again.  "It  can't  be  worth  much  to  her.  I 
think  she  would  be  anxious  to  assist  her  father.  All 
you  would  need  to  do  would  be  to  explain  the  situation. 
I  can't  see  what  more  you'd  want." 

"We  can't  do  that,"  his  father  answered.  "She 
wouldn't  sell  it  if  she  could;  she's  too  much  like  her 
mother  for  that.  Neither  can  she  sell  if  she  would. 
That's  provided  in  the  wilL  The  plan  I  have  outlined 
to  you  is  the  only  way.  As  it  stands  we  can  neither 
buy  nor  control." 


HENRY  PARSONS  SET  ADRIFT  291 

''Have  you  asked  her  to  use  her  voting  power  with 
you?     She  could  at  least  do  that." 

''She  won't,"  he  said,  growing  impatient  under  his 
son's  questions.  His  stock  of  patience  had  never  been 
abundant;  also  in  this  case  he  wished  to  avoid  too  full 
an  explanation.  Henry  Parsons  was  not  to  be  shut  off 
so  easily. 

"Why  not?"  he  asked. 

"I  have  told  you  before  that  she  is  just  like  her 
mother.  Marion  Burnside's  wife  was  the  most  ob- 
stinate woman  I  ever  met." 

"Yet,"  his  son  went  on  coldly,  "you  seem  anxious 
to  get  one  'just  like  her'  into  the  family." 

The  old  man's  frame  trembled  with  suppressed  rage. 

"We  must  control  that  stock,"  he  said. 

"I  can't  see  where  my  marrying  her  would  help  out 
any,"  the  young  man  went  on.  "I  wouldn't  own  the 
stock  any  more  then  than  I  do  now. ' ' 

"Under  the  laws  of  this  State,"  his  father  explained, 
' '  a  married  woman  has  practically  no  legal  rights.  Her 
husband  can  control  her  property." 

"Well,  I'd  call  that  a  rotten  law,"  the  son  declared. 
"Why  don't  you  introduce  a  bill  into  the  legislature 
to  change  it?" 

"Because  I  don't  want  it  changed,"  Squire  Parsons 
returned.  "We  want  control  of  that  stock;  we  must 
have  it,  and  if  that  law  is  changed  we  can  never  get  it. 
No,  sir,  we  are  very  well  satisfied  as  it  is. ' ' 

"Jennie  thinks,  evidently,  that  you  want  to  do  some- 
thing crooked  and  doesn't  want  to  be  a  partner  to  it." 

The  parent's  agitation  was  ill-concealed. 


292  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

**And  you  want  me  to  marry  a' woman  to  get  con- 
trol of  her  property ?'' 

''It's  the  only  way/' 

Henry  Parsons  looked  at  his  father  with  a  level  eye. 
When  he  spoke  his  voice  was  low  but  contained  the 
same  level  quality. 

''I  won't  do  it." 

''Henry,"  Squire  Parsons  sprang  to  his  feet,  "think 
well  what  you  are  saying.  It  will  mean  your  own  ruin 
as  well  as  mine.     Think  well  what  you  say." 

"I  know  perfectly  well  what  I  am  saying,"  the 
young  man  answered.  "I  mean  it — every  word.  Ypu 
spoke  the  truth  a  moment  ago  when  you  placed  me  in 
the  'no-good'  class.  I'm  no  good;  I'll  acknowledge 
that ;  but  I'm  not  low  down.  I'll  not  marry  any  woman 
to  make  it  legal  to  steal  her  property." 

"Henry!" 

"I  don't  care;  that's  \^hat  it  is;  theft,  legalized  theft; 
the  worst  type  of  theft  in  the' world.  To  do  what  you 
ank  would  steal  both  her  life  and  her  property.  Jennie 
Burnside  doesn't  care  for  me  and  never  would.  If  I 
loved  her  I  wouldn't  marry  her  under  those  circum- 
stances." 

Every  vestige  of  control  fled.  Squire  Parsons  paced 
the  floor  in  impotent  rage,  his  frame  and  the  muscles 
of  his  face  trembling  with  the  fullness  of  it. 

Henry  had  never  seen  his  father  like  that,  and  while 
he  appeared  calm,  his  own  nerves  and  muscles  were 
tense  under  the  strain.  He  did  not  know  that  his  hands 
were  clenched  until  the  nails  penetrated  the  flesh,  or 
that  his  teeth  came  together  like  a  vise. 


HENRY  PARSONS  SET  ADRIFT  293 

The  old  man's  fury  gathered  momentum  as  the  mo- 
ments passed,  and  finally  entered  that  stage  where  his 
flesh  was  cold  and  his  nerves  quiet  with  a  cold,  cal- 
culating quiet;  that  stage  where  men  of  certain  type 
do  murder,  and  others  wreck  the  lives  of  their  victims 
in  other  ways ;  the  stage  which  no  man  enters  and  passes 
without  harm. 

''You  have  sealed  your  own  doom,"  he  said  after  a 
time.  ''By  your  own  words  is  your  allowance  stopped. 
You  are  on  your  own  resources.  This  house  is  no  longer 
your  home." 

The  expression  of  the  young  man's  face  did  not 
change,  but  his  heart  sank  at  the  words  uttered  in  that 
cold,  hard  voice.  Henry  Parsons  had  never  met  the 
world  in  combat,  and  in  truth  he  was  afraid.  The  nails 
of  his  fingers  went  deeper  into  the  soft  flesh  of  his 
hands,  and  he  leaned  against  the  mantel  to  hide  the  ex- 
tent of  his  feelings. 

"It  shall  be  as  you  say,"  he  answered  finally,  and 
without  another  word  left  the  room. 

As  the  moments  passed,  Squire  Parsons 's  face  lost 
its  pallor  of  anger  and  his  features  settled  into  the  ex- 
pression of  one  who  has  played  for  high  stakes  and 
lost.  The  lines  of  his  face  deepened,  his  shoulders 
drooped.  He  dropped  into  a  chair  before  his  desk 
and  his  hands  fell  with  a  hopeless  gesture  on  a  paper 
before  him.  He  looked  at  it  as  though  it  possessed  a 
peculiar  personality. 

"Ruin,"  he  muttered.  "You  are  determined  to  ruin 
me.     Only  six  months;  six  months  to  win  again  what 


294  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

it  has  taken  a  lifetime  to  gain.  How  can  I  do  it  ?  How 
can  I  do  it?" 

In  the  mind  of  the  man  there  was  no  thought  of  the 
boy  who  had  passed  out  of  his  home.  There  had  been 
no  love,  consequently  there  was  no  pang  at  parting. 
The  wealth  he  had  built  around  him  claimed  the  love  of 
his  life,  and  with  the  danger  of  that  slipping  from  him 
there  remained  no  room  in  his  thoughts  for  lesser  things. 

When  Henry  Parsons  left  his  father's  library  it  was 
with  a  heavy  heart.  The  alert  servant,  perceiving  his 
intention  of  going  out,  brought  his  hat,  coat,  cane,  and 
gloves.  The  young  man  took  the  coat  and  scrambled 
into  it  unassisted.  The  well-trained  assistant  did  not 
show  the  surprise  he  felt.  With  impenetrable  face  he 
extended  the  cane  and  gloves.    These  were  waved  aside. 

**I  don't  want  them,  James,"  he  said. 

''While  I  am  gone,"  he  continued,  taking  the  hat, 
"I  wish  you  would  pack  my  trunk  again.  Have  it 
ready  for  removal  this  evening. ' ' 

''Very  well,  sir,"  was  the  response,  and  the  young 
man  was  gone. 

The  puzzled  servant  watched  him  descend  the  marble 
steps,  pass  the  granite  pillars  which  marked  the  en- 
trance to  the  grounds,  and  walk  off  rapidly  down  the 
maple-shaded  avenue. 

When  be  reached  the  corner,  young  Parsons  did  a 
strange  thing.  Leaving  the  town,  he  climbed  the  hill, 
taking  the  walk  leading  to  the  cemetery.  He  was  not 
conscious  of  the  distance  he  covered,  but  walked  as 
one  in  a  dream.  He  passed  through  the  swinging  gate 
and  made  his  way  over  the  graveled  walk  to  the  most 


HENRY  PARSONS  SET  ADRIFT  295 

magnificent  headstone  in  the  city  of  graves.  Here 
he  paused  and  laid  his  hand  on  the  cold  chiseled  form 
of  a  woman  which  topped  the  monument.  Those  who 
remembered  his  mother  said  the  likeness  was  good. 
Rumor  had  it  that  the  sculpturing,  done  by  a  master 
from  a  splendid  engraving,  had  cost  his  father  a  small 
fortune.  As  to  that,  we  do  not  know.  But  to  the 
heart  of  the  man  who  had  come  to  this  strange  spot 
for  sympathy,  it  returned  only  the  chill  and  hardness 
of  stone.  He  dropped  to  his  knees  by  the  side  of  the 
grave  and  buried  his  face  among  the  flowers.  Here  he 
felt  nearer  to  the  presence  of  the  woman  he  could  just 
remember. 

''Would  it  have  been  different,  mother,  if  you  had 
been  here?"  he  questioned.  ''Would  you  have  taught 
me  to  be  worth  something  in  the  world?" 

The  flowers  raised  their  faces  bravely  to  him  and 
breathed  out  their  perfume  in  calmness.  The  grasses 
at  his  feet  waved  softly  in  the  breezes  that  stirred,  and 
the  notes  of  the  bird  singing  in  the  tree  above  him 
blended  with  the  stillness. 

"You  would  have  courage  if  you  were  here,  mother," 
he  murmured,  passing  his  hand  caressingly  over  the 
grave.  "I  know  you  would  be  brave,  but  I'm  afraid, 
mother,  and  I'm  a  man.  A  man,  afraid!  I'm  ashamed, 
mother,  but  I'm  afraid." 

After  a  time  the  gentle  quiet  of  the  place,  eloquent 
in  its  suggestion  of  rest  and  peace,  crept  into  his  being 
and  his  strange  communion  with  the  departed  ceased. 

He  took  a  knife  from  his  pocket  and  began  carefully 
to  uproot  some  weeds  just  beginning  to  show  among 


296  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

the  well-kept  grasses.  The  task  gave  him  comfort.  It 
was  the  first  time  it  had  ever  been  performed  by  other 
than  the  hands  of  a  servant.  After  a  time  his  mind 
cleared  and  he  was  able  to  consider  his  situation  in 
life.  The  prospects  before  him  seemed  dark  and  his 
face  was  troubled.  An  old  habit,  born  in  childhood, 
brought  a  keen  desire  to  confide  in  his  boyhood  friend. 

''How  do  you  do?" 

Henry  Parsons  looked  up  in  surprise.  He  could 
scarcely  believe  that  the  immediate  subject  of  his 
thoughts  had  spoken  to  him.  Yet,  as  the  girl  stood  be- 
fore him,  her  soft  brown  hair  in  gentle  confusion  be- 
neath the  folds  of  a  homemade  but  dainty  sunshade, 
he  thought  her  the  most  beautiful  woman  he  had  ever 
seen.  Exquisite  ladies  in  elegant  gowns  seemed  in- 
significant when  compared  with  the  simple,  unconscious 
beauty  of  the  gingham-clad  girl  with  her  bucket  and 
spade. 

"Cynthia,  what  are   you  doing  here?" 

The  girl  laughed  softly.  She  had  not  failed  to  note 
the  tone  of  gladness  which  accompanied  the  words  and 
knew  she  was  not  unwelcome. 

''Evidently  my  task  is  similar  to  your  own,"  she 
responded.     "I  have  been  tending  father's  grave." 

"It's  the  first  time,"  he  acknowledged,  "I  ever 
tended  mother's." 

"I  always  tend  father's,"  she  said.  "I  wouldn't 
think  of  letting  anyone  else  do  it,  even  if  I  were  able 
to  hire  it  done.  Don't  you  think  they  would  rather 
know  we  did  it?" 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "I  think  they  would." 


HENRY  PARSONS  SET  ADRIFT  297 

** Aren't  these  flowers  beautiful?"  he  asked  after  a 
moment's  silence,  raising  the  face  of  one  nearest  for  her 
inspection.  ''I  didn't  know  father  had  a  servant  capa- 
ble of  raising  them." 

The  girl's  face  flushed;  she  opened  her  mouth  to 
speak  but  the  words  did  not  come.  The  meaning  of 
her  confusion  came  over  him  suddenly. 

"Cynthia,"  he  questioned,  ''did  you  do  it?  Did  you 
plant  the  flowers  on  mother's  grave?" 

''Well,  you  see,"  she  defended,  the  flush  deepening 
painfully,  "you  were  not  here  to  do  it,  and  the  servants 
can  never  do  those  things  well.  When  I  came  here  to 
look  after  father's  grave,  it  was  no  trouble  to  look 
after  the  flowers  on  your  mother's  grave  as  well." 

A  great  emotion  swelled  up  in  the  young  man's 
heart.  He  leaned  once  more  against  the  graven  image 
of  the  woman,  but  his  eyes  and  thoughts  were  on  the 
other  woman  before  him.  The  girl  had  turned  her  face 
away,  yet  he  could  see  its  expression  of  shame  that  he 
had  found  out. 

"I  didn't  think  you  would  ever  know,"  she  faltered. 

' '  Cynthia, ' '  he  murmured  at  last.    ' '  Cynthia. ' ' 

"Henry,"  she  pleaded,  raising  her  eyes  filled  with 
tears  to  his  face,  "I  didn't  mean  any  harm.  I  know 
it  wasn't  my  affairs,  but  the  grave  always  seemed  so 
lonesome  without  the  flowers.  It  was  the  loneliest 
grave  in  the  whole  churchyard." 

He  reached  out  suddenly  and  drew  the  girl  to  his 
side. 

"Cynthia,"  he  repeated,  "I  haven't  words  to  thank 
you.    There  is  not  a  word  in  the  whole  English  language 


298  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

that  will  express  my  thankfulness  to  you.  It  isn't  for 
this  one  thing  alone,  but  for  all  the  things  you  have 
done  and  for  all  that  you  have  meant  to  me.  Can  you 
think,  Cynthia,  what  it  means  to  a  man  whom  nobody 
really  loves  to  have  one  person  in  the  world  who  has 
had  faith  in  him?  I  didn't  know,  when  I  was  away, 
what  had  become  of  you,  but  even  when  I  forgot,  your 
influence  never  left  me.  When  I  came  back  and  found 
you  at  the  Burnside  home  yesterday,  the  wonder  of  it 
has  been  with  me  ever  since.  I  don't  amount  to  any- 
thing, now,"  his  voice  broke  and  his  head  dropped 
lower  as  he  made  the  confession,  ''but  if  I  ever  do  the 
credit  will  all  be  yours,  dear  girl;  it  will  all  be  yours." 

''Hush,  Henry,"  the  girl  commanded  gently;  "you 
must  not  say  those  things  about  yourself.  You  must 
not.  A  man's  worth  does  not  depend  on  what  he  has 
done  but  upon  what  he  is  capable  of  doing,  what  he  will 
do.  You  cannot  estimate  your  own  worth.  Your  whole 
life  is  before  you — an  untrained,  uncultivated  field. 
What  do  you  know  of  its  value  ?  It  will  not  be  wasted, 
I'm  sure.  As  to  the  other,  I  have  done  nothing.  All 
that  you  credit  to  me  is  the  striving  of  your  own  per- 
sonality.   The  credit  is  your  own." 

The  young  man  laughed,  and  there  was  a  note  of 
gladness  in  his  laughing. 

"You  don't  understand,  Cynthia,"  he  said;  "you 
don't  understand.*' 

"I  think  I  do  understand,"  the  girl  continued,  striv- 
ing to  loosen  his  hold  on  her  arm.  "Don't  you  think  I 
knew  you  well  enough  in  those  old  days,  to  know  that 
you  would  never  be  quite  content  with  a.  useless  life? 


HENRY  PARSONS  SET  ADRIFT  299 

Don 't  you  think  I  knew  that  something  within  yourself 
would  be  always  striving  to  bring  you  above  those 
things,  into  a  life  of  active  usefulness?  Don't  you 
think  I  can  understand  how  that  unconscious  striving 
would  make  you  discontented  and  you  would  not  al- 
ways know  the  cause  of  your  discontent?  Yes,  Henry, 
1  think  I  do  understand/' 

"I  believe  you  do,"  he  said;  ''I  believe  you  do;  and, 
Cynthia,  if  I  ever  succeed,  it  will  be  because  of  the 
courage  I  get  from  thinking  you  do  understand." 
^'Have  it  your  own  way,  Henry,"  the  girl  laughed, 
.s  she  brushed  a  speck  of  dust  from  the  foot  of  the 
monument,  and  the  man  forgot  his  troubles  in  watching 
the  dimples  come  and  go  in  her  cheeks. 

*  *  What  would  you  think,  Cynthia, ' '  he  asked  after  a 
moment's  silence,  **if  I  told  you  that  father  had  run 
me  away  from  home?" 

The  girl's  eyes  opened  wide. 

*'Not  seriously?"  she  questioned. 

'*  Seriously, "  he  returned. 

''Why  should  he  do  that?" 

*'0h,"  the  young  man  laughed  a  trifle  bitterly,  "I 
didn't  seem  to  agree  with  his  plans;  that  was  all." 

''Henry,  tell  me,"  she  questioned;  "did  it  have  any- 
thing to  do  with  Jennie  Burnside  ? " 

"How  did  you  know?"  he  asked.  "Have  they  men- 
tioned it  to  Jennie?    Did  she  tell  you?" 

"No,  Jennie  didn't  tell  me,  but  Jennie  knows.  She 
knew  before  you  came  home. ' ' 

"Does  she  think  I  am  into  that  kind  of  a  game?  Did 
she  think  that  was  why  I  went  over  yesterday?" 


300  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

''Jennie  knows  you  had  nothing  to  do  with  it.  We 
both  knew  you  wouldn't  do  it.    Jennie  isn't  narrow." 

*'I  regret  very  much  that  such  a  thing  should  hap- 
pen." 

''What  are  you  going  to  do  now?"  the  girl  went  on. 
"Where   are   you   going?" 

"I  haven't  decided  yet,"  he  answered.  "I  don't 
really  know  what  I  can  do.  I'm  willing  to  work,  but 
I  don't  know  how.     I  don't  know  what  to  do." 

"I  don't  think  you  can  get  work  here,"  the  girl 
said.  ' '  The  woolen  mills  are  all  that  employ  men,  and 
Marion  Burnside  runs  them.  He  and  your  father  are 
together  in  these  plans.     He  wouldn't  employ  you." 

"No,"  the  young  man  said,  "I  hadn't  expected  that. 
Besides,  do  you  understand  what  a  blow  it  would  be 
to  father's  pride  to  have  me  work  in  this  town?" 

"Forget  your  father's  pride,"  Cynthia  admonished 
earnestly.  "If  you  must  earn  a  living,  earn  it  where 
and  how  you  can.  The  best  thing  that  could  happen 
to  men  like  your  father  and  Marion  Burnside  would  be 
for  their  pride  to  receive  a  blow  that  would  knock  it 
completely  from  under  them.  It  would  hurt  for  a  while, 
but  they'd  be  more  human  because  of  it.  Let's  go  to  the 
seat  in  the  bower  there  and  plan  what  you  had  better 
do.  Do  you  remember  the  games  we  used  to  have  at 
that  spot?" 

"I  think  that's  the  place,"  he  said  laughing,  "where 
I  almost  scalped  you,  playing  Indian." 

"It  is,"  she  affirmed,  "and  I  didn't  speak  to  you 
for  fully  five  minutes." 


HENRY  PARSONS  SET  ADRIFT  301 

"It  doesn't  seem  so  long  ago,  does  it?"  he  asked,  as 
he  held  aside  a  bunch  of  roses  to  make  room  for  her. 

"Now  the  first  question  to  determine,"  Cynthia  said 
when  they  were  seated,  "is  your  financial  condition. 
When  we  know  that  we  can  plan  better.  How  much 
money  have  you  ? ' ' 

' '  Practically  none  on  hand, ' '  he  said.  ' '  I  think  I  have 
less  than  thirty. ' ' 

"Well,  I'd  call  that  a  great  deal,"  Cynthia  replied. 
"No  man's  case  is  hopeless  who  has  that  much  money. 
I  never  see  that  much  at  one  time,  myself." 

"Why,  Cynthia,  that  wouldn't  last  two  weeks  in  a 
hotel." 

"Of  course  not,"  she  said,  "you'll  have  to  quit  think- 
ing in  hotel  terms,  now." 

The  girl  picked  a  beautiful  red  rose  which  seemed  to 
stretch  toward  her  invitingly. 

"Do  you  know  where  Grandma  Mallory  lives?"  she 
asked  suddenly. 

"I  think  so;  a  brick  house  down  by  the  river?" 

"Yes,"  she  said,  "the  brick  house  with  the  deep, 
shady  lawn.  You  can  get  board  and  room  there  very 
reasonably.  That  will  give  you  time  to  plan  further. 
Now  what  other  resources  have  you?" 

"I  have  an  income  of  my  own,  amounting  to  forty 
dollars  a  month.    Father  has  no  interest  in  that." 

"Oh!"  the  girl  laughed  heartily.  "Oh,  Henry!" 

"Well,  what's  funny  about  that?"  he  asked.  "It's 
small  enough,  certainly.  I'd  hate  to  think  there  was 
less  of  it. ' ' 

Cynthia's  laughter  was  uncontrollable. 


302  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

''Oh!"  she  said  again.  "I  supposed  this  was  a  case 
which  required  thought.  Why,  Henry,  you're  independ- 
ent. There  isn't  much  you  can't  do  on  forty  dollars  a 
month." 

' '  Who  could  live  on  it  ?"  he  asked. 

''Why,  man,  it  would  keep  a  family,"  she  said,  and 
went  off  again  into  a  paroxysm  of  laughter. 

' '  I  have  a  whole  lot  to  learn,  I  think, ' '  he  said  after 
a  while. 

"Yes,  but  you'll  learn,"  she  said.  "How  much  do 
you  thin*k  mother  and  I  live  on  ? " 

"I  couldn't  guess." 

'"Well,  sixty  cents  a  day  when  we  do  well;  far  less 
when  we  don't." 

"I  can't  conceive  of  it,"  he  said. 

"No  more  can  I  conceive  of  spending  forty  dollars  a 
month.    That  looks  like  a  fortune  to  me." 

"I  wish  I  had  trained  for  a  profession,"  he  said. 
"To-day  I  saw  Stanley  Lakeman  making  a  call,  and  I 
wished  I  also  could  do  something  useful. ' ' 

"Why  don't  you?"  she  asked. 

"How  could  I?"  he  questioned.  "Father  would 
neither  consent  nor  help  me  to  accomplish  it. ' ' 

"You  have  your  forty  dollars,"  she  reminded  him. 
"Many  a  young  man  has  put  himself  through  school 
with  nothing  to  start  on.  You  might  have  to  work 
some  to  help  out,  but  it  could  be  done." 

"If  I  only  could,"  he  said.  "I  would  be  more  than 
willing  to  work,  if  I  only  could  do  it. ' ' 

"You  can,"  she  said.  "I'm  sure  you  can."  Then  a 
moment  later:    "What  profession  would  you  choose ?*' 


HENRY  PARSONS  SET  ADRIFT  303 

* '  You  won 't  laugh  at  me  ?"  he  questioned. 

''Certainly  not." 

''I'd  like  to  be  an  osteopath." 

"An  osteopath!"  she  echoed.  "Why,  Henry,  what 
ever  made  you  come  to  that  conclusion  ? ' ' 

"I've  felt  that  way  for  a  long  time,"  he  said.  "I've 
read  everything  I  could  find  along  that  line.  I've 
talked  with  men  who  are  osteopaths.  That  would  be 
my  choice  of  a  profession." 

"Then  that  is  the  thing  you  should  study.  I  think 
you  should  plan  to  enter  school  this  fall." 

' '  There 's  tuition  to  think  about, ' '  he  ventured. 

"I  know,"  she  returned,  "but  the  way  will  open  up. 
You  can  manage  it  somehow. " 

As  the  girl  spoke  she  arose  from  her  seat.  Seeing  her 
intention  of  leaving  he  held  aside  the  blossoms  once 
more  for  her  to  pass.  As  he  did  so,  neither  of  them  saw 
a  stealthy  form  slip  from  behind  the  roses  and  steal 
quietly  to  the  fence  where  a  sudden  dip  in  the  hill 
hid  them  from  view. 

"You  would  encourage  a  confirmed  pessimist,  Cyn- 
thia, ' '  he  said,  and  laughed  light-heartedly.  ' '  I  almost 
feel  like  a  man  this  minute." 

"Henry!"  The  girl  stopped  on  the  graveled  walk 
and  stamped  her  foot  emphatically.  It  was  Cynthia's 
sign  of  utmost  aggravation.  "Don't  let  me  ever  hear 
you  say  those  degrading  things  about  yourself  again; 
never!  never!" 

"Why,  I  only  said  I  almost  felt  like  a  man,"  he  de- 
fended with  his  gay  laugh.  "That  was  bragging, 
Cynthia,  bragging." 


304  THE   CALL  AT  EVENINQ 

** Henry,  you  will  never  grow  up,"  Cynthia  said  as 
she  passed  through  the  gate,  and  her  laugh  was  only  a 
shade  less  gay  than  his  own. 


CHAPTER  28 
''THE  LAND  SHADOWING  WITH  WINGS*' 

I'M  AFRAID  we  will  study  without  Stanley  to-night/' 
Bill  Lakeman  remarked  as  he  placed  the  last  chair 
beside  the  tables  and  turned  towards  the  meadows 
to  get  the  benefit  of  the  evening  breezes,  which  came 
stealing  from  the  east  and  lifted  the  locks  of  his  gray 
hair  playfully  as  they  passed. 

*'I  don't  like  to  do  that,"  Alfred  Stewart  returned. 
* '  Why  do  you  think  he  cannot  be  w^ith  us  ? " 

*'He  has  a  bad  case  on  his  hands,"  the  old  man  re- 
turned. ''He  had  his  patient  removed  to  the  hospital 
to-night.    He  may  get  away,  but  it's  doubtful." 

''We'll  hope  for  the  best,"  Alfred  said. 

"Here  comes  Jennie  now,"  Bill  Lakeman  said. 
"Watch  her  ride;  she  seems  to  have  grown  up  on  that 
horse.    Did  you  ever  see  a  more  graceful  rider? ' ' 

"She  rides  beautifully,"  Alfred  answered. 

Jennie  galloped  to  the  gate  and  slipped  from  the  sad- 
dle almost  before  the  pony  had  stopped.  She  lifted  her 
hand  in  playful  greeting  to  the  pair  by  the  honeysuckle. 

"Evening  again,"  she  said,  as  she  came  up,  "a  per- 
fectly delightful  study  evening.  Don't  you  think  so, 
Mr.  Lakeman?" 

"Mighty  fine,"  the  old  man  agreed.  "If  this  breeze 
keeps  up  we'll  study  indoors  to-morrow  night." 

"Oh,  don't  predict  such  a  thing,"  Jennie  begged. 


306  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING. 

''We  don't  want  rain  while  these  study  evening  last." 

"It  isn't  always  what  we  want,"  Bill  Lakeman  ven- 
tured laughing;  ''it's  what  we  get." 

''Who  is  that  coming  with  Mr.  Bennett?"  Jennie 
asked.    ' '  Isn  't  she  charming  ? ' ' 

"Mrs.  Bennett!"  Alfred  said,  in  a  tone  of  surprise. 
"How  is  it  possible?" 

A  look  of  comprehension  illumined  Bill  Lakeman 's 
face. 

"Now  we  know,"  he  said,  "where  Sophronia  has 
gone.  Well,  I'm  glad  she  did  it,"  he  added  to  himself. 
"I'm  glad  she  did  it." 

When  Mary  Bennett  was  introduced  to  Bill  Lakeman 
and  Jennie,  she  met  them  with  a  quiet  grace  and  gentle 
self-possession  which  sat  becomingly  on  her.  Yet,  truth 
to  tell,  it  was  with  a  sinking  heart  that  she  took  the 
chair  beside  Jennie  Burnside,  for  Jennie  was  to-night 
arrayed  in  an  elaborately  beautiful  riding  habit,  while 
Mary  Bennett  wore  the  simple  cotton  frock,  mended 
and  remended,  which  represented  the  best  of  her  collec- 
tion. Jennie  Burnside  felt  this,  and  her  own  face 
burned  with  self-reproach.  She  wished  heartily  that 
pride  had  not  so  overcome  her  better  judgment. 

When  the  prayer  was  over,  Jennie  unfastened  the 
rose  which  adorned  her  bodice  and  gave  it  to  Mary 
Bennett.  It  was  a  trivial  thing,  yet  to  the  starved 
heart  of  the  woman  it  meant  much.  Her  eyes  lighted 
with  thankfulness.  Impulsively  Jennie  reached  for  the 
hand  lying  idly  beneath  the  table  and  pressed  it  warmly. 
The  matter  of  dress  was  forgotten,  swallowed  up  in  a 


"THE  LAND  SHADOWING  WITH  WINGS"      307 

flood  which  warmed  their  hearts  with  a  deep,  new 
friendship. 

''We  were  studying  last  night,"  Alfred  was  saying, 
''the  apostasy  of  the  church.  We  read  the  description 
of  the  church  as  seen  in  a  vision  by  John  the  Revelator : 
crowned  with  twelve  stars  and  clothed  with  the  sun. 
We  followed  the  vision  until  her  child  was  taken  from 
her,  back  to  God,  and  the  church  passed  into  the  wil- 
derness. 

"In  its  place  there  was  established  in  Rome,  on  the 
back  of  the  dragon,  a  church  that  the  world  has  con- 
sidered the  church  of  Christ.  However,  John  the  Reve- 
lator spoke  of  her  as  'a  woman'  not  'the  woman'  of 
whom  he  had  just  been  talking.    That  was " 

"Well,  I  guess  you  don't  study  without  me,"  a  cheer- 
ful voice  interrupted  as  Stanley  Lakeman  slipped  into 
his  chair.  "I'm  not  going  to  the  foot  of  the  class  by  an 
absent  mark.  Not  I !  You  may  continue  your  sermon 
now,  Mr.  Preacher.  I'm  here  to  see  that  you  don't 
teach  this  people  anything  but  the  truth." 

"And  glad  we  are  of  it,"  Alfred  responded  warmly. 
"We  feared  it  would  be  necessary  to  study  without 
you." 

Stanley 's  face  was  suddenly  serious. 

"I  feared  so  myself,"  he  said.  Then  aside  in  answer 
to  the  question  in  his  father's  eyes:  "Bad,"  he  said. 
' '  I  can 't  stay  away  long. ' ' 

"The  midnight  of  darkness, "  Alfred  resumed,  "which 
followed  the  departure  of  the  church,  enveloped  the 
world  and  hid  from  the  view  of  men,  for  a  time,  the 
simple  truth  of  the  gospel,  had  not  come  unannounced. 


308  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING. 

The  Lord  of  the  earth,  the  Master  of  the  vineyard,  was 
not  unprepared  for  it.  In  our  study  to-night  we  wish  to 
take  up  that  phase  of  the  situation — the  preparation  of 
the  Lord  for  the  preservation  of  his  truth. 

''Our  foundation  is  a  sentence  found  in  the  twenty- 
first  chapter  of  Matthew  and  the  forty-third  verse. 

"  'This  is  the  Lord's  doings  and  it  is  marvelous  in 
our  eyes. ' 

"In  this  connection  we  will  ask  Mr.  Lakeman  to  read 
Matthew  21:  41." 

' '  '  They  say  unto  him,  He  will  miserably  destroy  these 
wicked  men,  and  will  let  out  his  vineyard  unto  other 
husbandmen,  which  shall  render  him  the  fruits  in  their 
seasons.'  " 

"The  verses  preceding,"  Alfred  said,  "show  us  this: 
The  Lord,  sincerely  desiring  the  good  of  the  vineyard, 
had  placed  it  in  charge  of  laborers  or  husbandmen. 
Prom  time  to  time  he  sent  messengers  to  these  husband- 
men to  assist  and  instruct  them.  Each  time  the  mes- 
senger was  stoned  and  killed,  until  at  last  in  one  great 
effort  the  master  of  his  vineyard  sent  his  son.  When 
the  son  was  killed  also  he  swore  in  his  wrath  that  he 
would  destroy  those  husbandmen  and  let  out  his  vine- 
yard to  others." 

"Do  you  not  think,"  Jennie  asked,  "that  refers  to 
the  rejection  of  the  Jews  as  a  nation  and  the  gospel 
being  given  to  the  Gentiles?" 

"Yes,"  Alfred  returned,  "I  think  it  does.    Yet  it  is 

quite  evident  that  the  rejection  of  the  Jews  was  not  a 

•  permanent  rejection.     They  were  rejected  for  a  time, 


"THE  LAND  SHADOWING  WITH  WINGS"      309 

We  learn  this  from  Luke  21 :  24.  You  may  read  it, 
Miss  Burnside/' 

"  'And  they  shall  fall  by  the  edge  of  the  sword,  and 
shall  be  led  away  captive  into  all  nations :  and  Jerusa- 
lem shall  be  trodden  down  of  the  Gentiles,  until  the 
times  of  the  Gentiles  be  fulfilled.'  " 

''Later  we  will  go  farther  into  this  phase  of  the 
question.  At  present  it  is  enough  for  us  to  know  that 
the  position  of  laborers  or  husbandmen  for  the  vineyard 
was  taken  from  the  Jews  and  given  to  the  Gentiles." 

"I  don't  know  whether  I  just  get  all  of  that  or  not," 
Stanley  observed. 

"It  is  like  this,"  Alfred  explained:  "The  gospel  of 
the  Lord  was  given  into  the  hands  of  the  Israelites, 
not  for  their  good  alone,  but  that  they  might  be  hus- 
bandmen to  the  entire  vineyard,  the  world.  It  was  not 
the  plan  of  God  that  only  those  known  as  the  'chosen 
people'  should  be  saved,  but  rather,  that  they  might 
be  instruments  in  his  hands  in  bringing  salvation  to 
the  entire  world.  This  they  failed  to  do,  although  the 
Lord  labored  with  them  long  and  faithfully.  At  last 
he  declared  in  desperation,  'I  will  let  the  vineyard  out 
to  other  husbandmen.'  He  tells  us  this  in  different 
language  in  Jeremiah  11 :  16,  17,  where  speak'ng  of  the 
Israelites,  the  nations  of  Judah  and  Israel,  he  says : 

' '  '  The  Lord  called  thy  name,  a  green  olive  tree,  fair, 
and  of  goodly  fruit:  with  the  noise  of  a  great  tumult 
he  hath  kindled  fire  upon  it,  and  the  branches  of  it  are 
broken. ' 

"Now  let  us  turn  to  Romans  11:  17.  We  will  notice 
that  the  apostle  is  speaking  to  those  other  husbandmen, 


310  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

the  Gentiles,  to  whom  the  vineyard  was  given.  We 
have  just  read  of  the  breaking  off  of  some  of  the 
branches  of  the  olive  tree.  We  learn  in  the  verses  we 
are  about  to  read,  what  takes  their  place.  Perhaps  you 
will  read,  Mrs.  Bennett  ? ' ' 

*'  'And  if  some  of  the  branches  be  broken  off,  and 
thou,  being  a  wild  olive  tree,  wert  grafted  in  among 
them,  and  with  them  partakest  of  the  root  and  fatness 
of  the  olive  tree.'  " 

**So  the  gospel  was  to  the  Gentiles " 

"Well,  boy,"  Bill  Lakeman  spoke  up,  ''you  may  not 
know  it,  but  you  are  getting  the  Lord  into  an  awful 
fix.  What  you  say  is  true  enough  but  it  looks  like  this 
to  me :  The  Lord  chose  a  people,  the  Jews,  to  do  his 
work,  but  they  failed  right  along.    Didn't  they  fail?" 

Alfred  nodded. 

"Yes,  sir,  they  failed,"  the  old  man  reaffirmed,  "and 
he  took  the  gospel  from  them,  scattered  what  he  didn't 
kill,  and  gave  the  gospel  to  the  Gentiles.  Now,  how 
much  better  off  was  he?  How  long  did  the  Gen- 
tiles have  it  till  they  did  just  as  bad?  Our  study 
last  night  showed  that  they  had  turned  his  church  in- 
side out  in  less  than  five  centuries.  We  left  the  church 
last  night  in  the  hands  of  the  Gentiles,  rejected  of  the 
Lord,  and  lost  in  tha  wilderness.  Yes,  sir,  it  looks  to 
me  like  everything  had  gone  bad  on  the  hands  of  the 
Lord.  His  chosen  people  rejected  and  scattered,  the 
church  among  the  Gentiles  in  the  same  fix.  It  couldn't 
be  much  worse,  boy;  it  couldn't  be  much  worse." 

"You  are  right,  Mr.  Lakeman,"  Alfred  answered. 
"Affairs  had  come  to  that  point  where  the  Devil  seems 


"THE  LAND  SHADOWING  WITH  WINGS"      311 

to  have  won  all  around.  That  is  why  I  made  the  state- 
ment in  the  beginning  of  this  study,  'It  had  not  come 
unannounced.'  The  Lord  had  secretly  been  making 
preparation  for  the  time  when  his  truth  must  pass 
through  this  period  of  darkness,  which  to  this  day  we 
speak  of  as  the  'Dark  Ages.'  He  had  been  preparing 
to  bring  his  truth  through  this  period  of  darkness 
triumphant,  that,  when  it  had  passed  through  the  dark- 
ness, it  might  shine  with  greater  brilliance  because  of 
the  very  darkness.  During  the  remainder  of  this  study 
I  want  you  to  follow  very  closely. 

' '  This  preparation  began  long  before  the  day  of  dark- 
ness. We  get  our  first  glimpse  of  it  from  the  seven- 
teenth chapter  of  Ezekiel. 

"Before  we  read  I  want  to  call  to  your  mind  cer- 
tain points  of  history  which  will  help  us  in  our  con- 
sideration. 

"The  Lord  had  brought  the  hosts  of  Israel  out  of 
Egypt  with  a  mighty  hand.  He  had  settled  them  in  the 
land  of  Canaan  and  there  undertook  to  educate  them 
into  usefulness  for  his  work.  When  we  read  the  history 
we  are  appalled  at  their  failure  to  absorb  his  teachings. 
As  time  went  on  they  rebelled  against  his  form  of 
government  and  demanded  a  king.  Three  kings  ruled 
over  the  twelve  tribes,  Saul,  David,  and  Solomon.  After 
Solomon's  death,  civil  war  broke  out  and  the  kingdom 
was  divided.  Approximately  ten  tribes  formed  into  the 
northern  kingdom,  the  kingdom  of  Israel,  while  the 
others  became  the  kingdom  of  Judah,  or  the  Jewish 
people.  As  time  went  on  and  the  people  forgot  God, 
the  Assyrians  took  the  kingdom  of  Israel,  and  carried 


312  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

them  captive  into  Assyria.  Thus  was  brought  about 
the  loss  of  the  ten  tribes,  for  from  that  time  on  their 
whereabouts  were  unknown  to  the  world. 

''Later  when  the  people  of  Judah  became  so  wicked 
that  the  Lord  no  longer  protected  them,  the  king  of 
Babylon  took  Jerusalem,  and  the  Jews  entered  into 
their  famous  seventy  years  of  captivity. 

"Now  the  Lord  pictured  all  this  through  his  prophet. 
It  is  this  picture  we  will  study.  Ezekiel  17  :  3 ;  Stanley, 
read,  please.'* 

* '  '  And  say.  Thus  saith  the  Lord  Grod :  A  great  eagle 
with  great  wings,  long  winged,  full  of  feathers,  which 
had  divers  colors,  came  unto  Lebanon,  and  took  the 
highest  branch  of  the  cedar.'  " 

''That  is  the  Lord's  way  of  telling  us  of  the  carry- 
ing away  captive,  the  nation  of  Israel  into  Assyria. 
Now  for  the  other  part  of  the  picture.  Miss  Burnside, 
please  read  the  first  part  of  the  seventh  verse." 

"  'There  was  also  another  great  eagle  with  great 
wings  and  many  feathers.'  "  ' 

"Now,  Mr.  Bennett,  the  explanation  is  found  in 
verse  twelve.     Read  it,  please." 

"  'Say  now  to  the  rebellious  house,  Know  ye  not 
what  these  things  mean?  Tell  them,  Behold,  the  king 
of  Babylon  is  come  to  Jerusalem,  and  hath  taken  the 
king  thereof,  and  the  princes  thereof,  and  led  them 
with  him  to  Babylon.'  " 

"We  learn  from  this  verse  in  connection  with  verse 
sixteen,  where  the  Lord  tells  the  king  that  he  shall  die 
in  the  land  of  Babylon,  that  the  topmost  branches,  the 
kings,  princes,  and  nobles,  shall  there  in  captivity  con- 


"THE  LAND  SHADOWING  WITH  WINGS"      313 

sider  the  trespasses  which  they  have  trespassed  against 
him. 

''Thus  the  Lord  faced  once  more  the  evidence  of 
man's  unwillingness  to  serve  him.  Had  it  been  man's 
doings  they  would  have  given  up  in  despair  and  said, 
'It  is  of  no  use.'  Not  so  with  God;  he  grieved  for  his 
people  (Psalm  95 :  10)  and  did  what  he  could  to  save 
the  truth  resident  with  them.  For  although  first 
Israel,  the  ten  tribes  of  the  chosen  people,  and  later 
Judah,  the  other  two  tribes,  were  broken  down  because 
of  transgression,  and  carried  by  the  two  great  kings 
captive  into  heathen  lands,  yet  the  Lord  did  that  which 
thwarted  the  designs  of  the  eagle.  I  shall  read  from 
Ezekiel  17 :  22 ;  listen : 

"  'Thus  saith  the  Lord,  I  will  also  take  of  tl;e  high- 
est branch  of  the  high  cedar,  and  will  set  it ;  I  will  crop 
off  from  the  top  of  his  young  twigs  a  tender  one,  and 
will  plant  it  upon  a  high  mountain  and  eminent.' 

"You  will  see  by  the  preceding  verse  that  the  king, 
Zedekiah,  is  the  one  referred  to  there  in  the  phrase, 
'I  will  crop  off  from  the  top  of  his  young  twigs  a  ten- 
der one.'  While  the  kings  and  the  princes  who  had 
reached  maturity  were  carried  into  Babylon,  there  to 
die  or  to  spend  their  days  in  captivity,  yet  the  Lord 
declares  here  that  he  will  save  one  of  the  king's  house- 
hold— ^his  young  twigs — from  such  a  fate.  Young 
and  tender,  perhaps  too  young  to  serve  in  the  armies, 
and  of  little  consequence  in  the  sight  of  men,  yet  the 
hand  of  the  Lord  was  over  this  tender  one,  and  the 
Lord  would  not  permit  that  he  should  fall  into  the 
clutches  of  the  eagle.    He  tells  us  rather  that  he  will 


314  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

remove  him  and  establisli  him  upon  a  high  mountain 
and  eminent." 

'*Do  you  think,"  Stanley  asked,  ''that  in  the  con- 
fusion of  the  conflict  one  of  the  king's  sons  was  missed 
and  not  carried  into  Babylon?    Is  that  your  thought?" 

''Something  like  that,"  Alfred  answered.  "For  his 
own  purpose  the  Lord  will  lead  these  away. ' ' 

"Do  you  regard  that  mountain  as  a  literal  mountain, 
Mr.  Stewart?"  Jennie  asked. 

"No  more,"  he  said,  "than  I  would  regard  the 
eagle  as  a  literal  eagle.  The  term  'mountain,'  or  'moun- 
tains,' in  the  Bible  is  used  in  three  ways  other  than 
literal,  that  is,  to  designate  special  lands  (Ezekiel 
36:1),  or  nations  (Amos  6:1),  or  peoples  forming  a 
nation  (Ezekiel  6 :  2),  so  this  mountain  high  and  eminent 
is  a  wonderful  land,  a  strong  nation,  or  a  mighty  people. 
Verse  twenty-three  tells  us  more  of  this  mountain  on 
which  the  Lord  purposes  to  plant  this  twig.  Mr.  Lake- 
man,  will  you  read  it?" 

"  'In  a  mountain  of  the  height  of  Israel  will  I  plant 
it :  and  it  shall  bring  forth  boughs,  and  bear  fruit,  and 
be  a  goodly  cedar.'  " 

"This  verse  teaches  us  two  things,"  Alfred  com- 
mented: "First,  that  this  twig  of  the  Lord's  planting 
should  grow  into  a  goodly  nation,  and  second  that  the 
land,  or  mountain,  in  which  they  should  thus  grow,  is 
of  the  height  of  Israel.'  This  statement  is  very  sig- 
nificant. From  Psalm  68 :  16,  we  learn  that  the  reason 
for  the  height  of  the  mountain  of  Israel  is  because 
'this  is  the  hill  which  God  desireth  to  dwell  in.'  Now 
if  the  eminence  of  Israel  is  because  it  is  a  choice  land 


''THE   LAND   SHADOWING  WITH  WINGS"      315 

and  a  choice  people  unto  the  Lord,  then  the  eminence 
of  this  other  land  or  mountain  would  be  for  the  same 
reason,  for  we  are  told  they  are  equal  in  'height.' 

**Now  let  us  look  for  the  Lord's  reason  for  clipping 
off  this  twig  and  planting  it.  Mrs.  Bennett,  that  reason 
is  given  in  Isaiah  65 :  8,  9.  He  is  discussing  the  same 
subject." 

"  'Thus  saith  the  Lord,  as  the  new  wine  is  found 
in  the  cluster,  and  one  saith,  destroy  it  not ;  for  a  bless- 
ing is  in  it:  so  will  I  do  for  my  servant's  sake,  that  1 
may  not  destroy  them  all.  And  I  will  bring  forth  a 
seed  out  of  Jacob,  and  out  of  Judah  an  inheritor  of 
my  mountains.'  " 

''That  will  do,"  Alfred  said.  "It  has  taught  us 
that  the  Lord  has  indeed  more  mountains  than  one,  and 
that  the  seed  of  Jacob  and  of  Judah  shall  inherit 
them." 

"I'm  getting  curious,"  Stanley  said,  "to  know  what 
you  are  driving  at.  I  always  knew  that  the  land  of 
Canaan  was  supposed  to  be  a  choice  land,  and  the 
Israelites  a  chosen  people,  but  I  never  heard  of  any 
other  land  being  a  choice  land.  I'd  like  to  know  what 
it  is." 

"Well,  perphaps  we  can  learn,"  Alfred  said.  "You 
may  turn,  Stanley,  to  Zephaniah  3 :  10.  A  peculiar  lo- 
cation is  mentioned  there  and  in  connection  with  it  the 
Lord  speaks  once  more  of  his  holy  mountain.  You 
may  read." 

"  'From  beyond  the  rivers  of  Ethiopia  my  suppliants, 
even  the  daughter  of  my  dispersed,  shall  bring  mine 
offering.  * 


316  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

"  'From  beyond  the  rivers  of  Ethiopia/  ''  Stanley 
repeated.  ''Well,  where  is  that?  I  believe  I'll  bring 
my  map  of  the  world,  my  globe.    Would  that  help?** 

"Do,"  Alfred  urged. 

Stanley  was  gone  a  moment  and  then  returned  bear- 
ing in  his  arms  a  miniature  world. 

*'This  used  to  help  me  when  I  studied  geography  in 
school,"  he  said,  as  he  set  it  on  the  table  before  them. 

"Fine,"  Alfred  continued.  "Now  we  have  learned 
that  some  of  Israel  and  Judah  (the  Lord  speaks  of 
them  as  his  dispersed)  dwelt  beyond  the  rivers  of 
Ethiopia.  Mr.  Lakeman,  from  Isaiah  18:1,  tell  us 
something  more  about  this  land  that  is  beyond  the 
rivers  of  Ethiopia." 

The  old  man  studied  the  verse  carefully,  then  looked 
at  Alfred  with  a  surprised  light  in  his  eyes. 

"It  says,  'the  land  shadowing  with  wings,  which  is 
beyond  the  rivers  of  Ethiopia.*  ** 

"Very  well;  now  from  verse  two,  tell  us  how  they 
will  travel  in  order  to  communicate  with  the  land  and 
people  of  the  prophet. ' ' 

Again  Bill  Lakeman  studied  the  verse. 

"By  vessels  on  the  sea,"  he  answered. 

"Then,"  Alfred  continued,  "this  land  mentioned 
lies  over  the  sea.    Now  look." 

He  took  before  him  the  globe  Stanley  had  brought. 

"The  prophet  stood  here,"  he  said,  laying  his  finger 
on  that  part  of  the  globe  where  the  land  of  Palestine 
was  designated.  "By  the  power  of  the  Spirit  of  God, 
he  looked  out  beyond  the  rivers  of  Ethiopia,  which 
lay  here  in  northern  Africa,  across  the  sea  over  which 


**THE  LAND  SHADOWING  WITH  WINGS"      817 


the  vessels  would  come,  and  saw  in  vision  the  land 

shadowing  with  wings.     Can  you  also  see  his  vision?" 

He  turned  the  globe  slightly  toward  them,  and  there, 


"Like  the  shadows  cast 
by  two  great  wings,  lay 
the  lands  of  America." 


stretched  out  like  the  shadows  cast  by  two  great  wings, 
lay  the  lands  of  America,  the  great  Western  Hemi- 
sphere, 

''Why,"  Stanley  gasped  when  he  saw  it,  "it  couldn't 


318  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

be.  It  just  couldn't  be;  America  was  not  discovered 
yet." 

**Not  by  man/'  Alfred  agreed.  ''But  the  great  God 
of  the  universe  knew  of  that  land.  He  could  hardly 
be  expected  to  overlook  the  richest,  finest  land  in  the 
whole  world.    It  was  not  undiscovered  by  him." 

Stanley  was  silently  studying  the  picture  before  him. 

**So  much  is  said,"  Alfred  went  on,  ''about  the  land 
of  Canaan,  which  God  gave  to  Abraham,  Isaac,  and 
Jacob.  Yet  he  did  not  neglect  to  mention  also  in  em- 
phatic language  that  other  land  which  was  a  'mountain 
high  and  eminent'  to  him.  A  'mountain'  equal  in 
height  to  'Israel.'  We  will  turn  now  to  Deuteronomy 
33,  beginning  at  the  thirteenth  verse.  Stanley,  read, 
please." 

*'  'And  of  Joseph  he  said.  Blessed  of  the  Lord  be 
his  land,  for  the  precious  things  of  heaven,  for  the 
dew,  and  the  deep  that  coucheth  beneath.'  " 

"It  is  significant,"  Alfred  went  on,  "that  in  the 
blessing  of  all  the  tribes,  for  Joseph  only  is  a  special 
land  mentioned — Joseph's  land.  You  will  also  note 
that  his  was  a  very  rich  land.  Now,  Mr.  Lakeman,  we 
can  learn  more  of  the  matter  from  Genesis  49:  26." 

"  'The  blessings  of  thy  father  have  prevailed  above 
the  blessings  of  my  progenitors  unto  the  utmost  bound 
of  the  everlasting  hills:  they  shall  be  on  the  head  of 
Joseph,  and  on  the  crown  of  the  head  of  him  that  was 
separate  from  his  brethren.'  " 

"I  would  like  to  ask,"  Alfred  said,  "what  had  been 
the  blessing  of  Jacob's  progenitors,  Abraham  and 
Isaac?" 


"THE  LAND  SHADOWING  WITH  WINGS"      319 

' '  They  liad  been  promised  the  land  of  Canaan  for  an 
inheritance,"  Jennie  answered. 

''Mr.  Lakeman,  from  the  verse  you  just  read,  was 
Jacob's  blessing  confined  to  the  limit  of  his  progeni- 
tors?" 

''No,  it  seems  not,"  the  old  man  answered.  "He 
says  it  prevailed  above  their  blessing." 

"Unto  where?" 

"The  utmost  bound  of  the  everlasting  hills,"  Stan- 
ley supplied. 

"Jacob's  blessing  extended  far,"  Alfred  commented. 
"He  seemed  to  consider  this  blessing  which  would  reach 
even  unto  the  utmost  bound  of  the  everlasting  hills, 
a  special  blessing.  That  blessing  he  placed  upon  the 
head  of  one  of  his  sons.     Which  one?" 

"He  placed  it  upon  the  head  of  Joseph."  It  was 
Mary  Bennett  who  answered  timidly. 

"Deuteronomy  33: 17  tells  us  something  more  about 
Joseph.     Will  you  read  it,  Miss  Burnside?" 

"  'His  glory  is  like  the  firstling  of  his  bullock,  and 
his  horns  are  like  the  horns  of  the  unicorns :  with  them 
he  shall  push  the  people  together  to  the  ends  of  the 
earth.'" 

"Every  figure  of  speech  used,"  Alfred  said,  "sug- 
gests distance.  Now  one  more,  Mr.  Bennett;  Genesis 
49:22." 

"  'Joseph  is  a  fruitful  bough,  even  a  fruitful  bough 
by  a  well;  whose  branches  run  over  the  wall.'  " 

"Stanley,  what  does  the  term  'wall'  suggest  to  you?" 

Stanley  considered  the  question  seriously. 


820  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

''A  wall,"  he  said,  "is  that  which  surrounds  an  in- 
closure. ' ' 

"Yes,"  Alfred  said.  *'Now  let  us  think  of  this  in- 
stance a  moment.  Joseph  was  the  head  of  two  tribes. 
We  are  told  in  the  Scriptures  that  they  became  a  mighty- 
people.  Now  considering  it  in  the  light  of  a  people, 
what  do  you  think  the  term  'wall'  might  represent?" 

''It  seems  to  me,"  Bill  Lakeman  spoke  up,  "that  it 
must  represent  their  boundary  line." 

"Yes,"  Alfred  said,  "that  which  prevented  a  people 
from  further  spreading  out.  In  the  case  of  Joseph,  how- 
ever, the  wall  did  not  confine  him.  His  branches  'run 
over'  the  wall. 

' '  Now,  Mrs.  Bennett,  turn  to  Joshua  17 :  10  and  tell 
us  there  what  the  border  of  Joseph's  seed,  Ephraim 
and  Manasseh,  is  said  to  be." 

"It  says  the  sea  is  his  border,"  she  answered. 

"Very  well,  then,  some  of  the  branches  were  to  go 
over  the  sea.    Now,  Stanley,  Isaiah  16:  8." 

"For  the  fields  of  Heshbon  languish,  and  the  vine 
of  Sibmah,  the  lords  of  the  heathen  have  broken  down 
the  principal  plants  thereof,  they  are  come  even  unto 
Jazer,  they  wandered  through  the  '  wilderness :  her 
branches  are  stretched  out,  they  are  gone  over  the  sea.' 

"I  would  like  to  know  what  that  all  means,"  Stanley 
said.  "What  are  the  fields  of  Heshbon,  and  what  is  the 
vine  of  Sibmah?" 

"We'll  investigate  that,"  Alfred  answered,  "but 
first  we  will  ask  Mr.  Lakeman  to  read  a  like  state- 
ment in  Jeremiah  48 :  32. " 

"  '0  vine  of  Sibmah,  I  will  weep  for  thee  with  the 


"THE  LAND  SHADOWING  WITH  WINGS"      821 

weeping  of  Jazer :    thy  plants  are  gone  over  the  sea. '  ' ' 

''Well,  it  looks  like  some  one  was  going  over  the 
sea,  all  right,"  Stanley  commented. 

' '  Now  we  will  try  to  answer  your  question,  Stanley,  ^ ' 
Alfred  went  on.  '  *  Psalm  88 :  8  tells  us  that  the  Lord 
brought  a  vine  out  of  Egypt  and  cast  out  the  heathen 
and  planted  it.  So  Israel  is  the  vine  referred  to,  the 
people  of  God." 

''Why  should  he  weep  for  it?"  Jennie  asked. 

"The  great  eagle  of  which  we  read  in  the  earlier 
part  of  our  study  came  against  it.  The  lords  of  the 
heathen  broke  down  the  principal  plants.  Because 
they  would  not  hearken  unto  his  word  that  he  might 
protect  them,  the  Lord  wept.  Do  you  remember  what 
the  Lord  said  he  would  do  with  the  tender  twig?" 

"He  was  going  to  clip  it  off,"  answered  Jennie, 
"and  plant  it." 

"  He  is  telling  us  the  same  thing  in  another  way.  This 
time  he  is  telling  us  they  are  going  over  the  sea.  Now, 
Stanley,  we  will  look  up  Heshbon.  Tell  us  what  you 
find  in  Numbers  21:26." 

"It  says  Heshbon  was  the  city  of  Sihon,  king  of  the 
Amorites. 

"I  don't  know  any  more  now  than  I  did  before," 
Stanley  complained.  "I  don't  see  how  a  city  could  go 
over  the  sea." 

"I  don't  understand  that  Heshbon  necessarily  refers 
to  the  city  Heshbon  alone.  Heshbon,  under  king  Sihon, 
was  a  strong  nation,  including  provinces  ruled  over  by 
five  other  kings.    All  these  constituted  Heshbon  proper. 


322  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

Now,  Mr.  Bennett,  there  is  a  statement  in  Jeremiah  48 : 
45  which  may  help  us.    Will  you  look  it  up  ? " 

''  'They  that  fled  stood  under  the  shadow  of  Hesh- 
bon.^  '^ 

*'Now  we  have  had  two  lines  of  thought  under  con- 
sideration," Alfred  said.  ''First,  the  Lord  took  from 
the  land  of  Jerusalem  a  people,  designated  as  a  'tender 
twig,'  including  some  of  the  seed  of  the  king. 

"We  found  that  the  Lord  scattered  his  people  to  a 
land  beyond  the  rivers  of  Ethiopia,  across  the  sea,  a 
land  shadowing  with  wings.  Secondly,  we  learned  that 
the  Lord  gave  unto  Joseph  a  very  rich  land  and  that 
his  branches  (posterity)  should  run  over  the  wall. 
We  found  that  his  boundary  (wall)  was  the  sea.  We 
also  learned  that  some  did  go  over  the  sea. ' ' 

"That  doesn't  necessarily  prove,"  Bill  Lakeman 
said,  "that  it  was  Joseph's  seed  that  went  over  the 
sea.  Have  you  any  reason  for  connecting  Heshbon 
with  Joseph's  seed?" 

"Let  us  see,"  Alfred  answered.  "From  Numbers 
32  and  33  we  learn  of  the  dividing  of  Heshbon  and  its 
provinces  among  the  tribes  of  Gad,  Reuben,  and  half 
the  tribe  of  Manasseh.  Can  you  discover  Joseph's  seed 
among  any  of  these?" 

"Manasseh  was  Joseph's  son,"  Jennie  said. 

"Yes,"  Alfred  said,  "Manasseh  was  Joseph's  son, 
his  first  born.  So  you  see  we  can  show  what  the  Lord 
referred  to  when  he  speaks  of  Joseph's  branches 
running  over  the  wall — some  of  the  descendants,  evi- 
dently of  the  tribe  of  Manasseh,  led  away  to  occupy 
in  Joseph's  land,  the  land  shadowing  with  wings." 


"THE  LAND  SHADOWING  WITH  WINGS"      323 

*'I  want  to  know  something  else,"  Stanley  said.  ''It 
says  back  here  in  Isaiah  16:8,  'they  are  come  even 
unto  Jazer,  they  wandered  through  the  wilderness: 
her  branches  are  stretched  out,  they  are  gone  over  the 
sea. '  Now  what  does  this  mean,  '  they  are  come  unto 
Jazer'?" 

"Turn  to  Joshua  13:25,  Stanley,  and  you  can  an- 
swer your  own  question." 

"It  says,  'their  coast  was  Jazer.'  " 

"Yes,"  Alfred  said,  "to  say,  'they  are  come  unto 
Jazer,'  is  equivalent  to  saying  they  came  to  the  coast; 
they  went  over  the  sea.  Jeremiah  goes  further  and 
speaks  of  Jazer  as  the  sea." 

"Well,  I'll  declare,"  Stanley  said  as  he  held  his 
Bible  up  and  inspected  it  critically,  "there's  more  in 
you  than  I  ever  dreamed  there  was." 

"Now  listen  here,"  Bill  Lakeman  said;  "it  looks 
to  me  like  things  are  in  a  muddle.  It  does  look  like  all 
this  refers  to  Joseph  or  his  posterity,  but  where  does 
Zedekiah's  branch  come  in?  Zedekiah  was  not  a  de- 
scendant of  the  tribe  of  Joseph.  He  was  the  king  of 
Judah,  a  descendant  of  David.  That  would  make  him 
of  the  tribe  of  Judah." 

"I'm  glad  you  asked  that  question,  Mr.  Lakeman; 
it  is  one  of  the  points  which  needs  clearing  up.  Turn 
to  Jeremiah  49 :  30,  31,  and  read,  please.  We  will 
notice  while  Mr.  Lakeman  reads  that  he  is  discussing 
the  same  thing,  yet  a  new  element  enters  into  the  mat- 
ter." 

"  'Flee,  get  you  far  off,  dwell  deep,  0  ye  inhabitants 


324  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

of  Hazor,  saith  the  Lord;  for  Nebuchadnezzar  king  ot 
Babylon  hath  taken  counsel  against  you,  and  hath  con- 
ceived a  purpose  against  you.  Arise,  get  you  up  unto 
the  wealthy  nation,  that  dwelleth  without  care,  saith 
the  Lord,  which  have  neither  gates  nor  bars,  which 
dwell  alone.'  " 

"More  mystery, *'  Stanley  said. 

''Not  so  much  mystery,"  Alfred  mused.  ''It  is  easy 
to  unravel.  Hazor  was  the  head  of  many  kingdoms. 
King  Jabin  of  Hazor  ruled  over  Madon,  Shimron,  and 
Achshaph,  but  more  important,  he  ruled  over  the 
Oanaanites,  the  Amorites,  the  Hittites,  the  Perizzites, 
the  Jebusites,  and  the  Hivites  under  Herman  in  the 
land  of  Mizpah. 

"When  these  people  were  conquered  and  driven 
out  by  the  children  of  Israel,  southern  Hazor  was 
given  to  the  tribe  of  Judah,  and  Hazor  of  the  south 
became  a  city  of  Judah.'* 

"What's  bothering  me  is  this,"  Bill  Lakeman  took 
up  the  point  once  more:  "You've  shown  us  from  the 
Bible  when  the  Lord  was  going  to  give  a  land  to  Joseph, 
but  now  Judah  is  getting  mixed  into  it,  too.  I  don't 
understand  that." 

"Turn,  Mr.  Lakeman,  to  Isaiah  65 :  8  and  9  and  read." 

"Thus  saith  the  Lord,  As  the  new  vine  is  found 
in  the  cluster,  and  one  saith.  Destroy  it  not;  for 
a  blessing  is  in  it :  so  will  I  do  for  my  servants'  sakes, 
that  I  may  not  destroy  them  all.  And  I  will  bring 
forth  a  seed  out  of  Jacob,  and  out  of  Judah  an  inheri- 
tor of  my  mountains:  and  mine  elect  shall  inherit  it, 
and  my  servants  shall  dwell  there.'  " 


"THE  LAND  SHADOWING  WITH  WINGS"        826 

'*He  says  he  will  bring  them  forth  out  of  Jacob 
and  Judah.  Now  do  you  remember  upon  whose  head, 
or  to  whom,  Jacob's  special  blessing  was  transferred?" 

**  Joseph, '*  the  old  man  answered. 

''Also  a  study  of  the  Bible  will  show  that  Joseph 
was  given  Reuben's  birthright  and  that  thus  Joseph 
became  Jacob's  first  bom,  his  successor.  In  this  light 
the  passage  suggests  that  out  of  Joseph  and  out  of 
Judah  will  the  inheritor  be  brought  forth." 

''Then  you  think  that  descendants  of  both  came 
over  here?" 

"Yes,"  Alfred  answered,  "it  seems  evident  to  me 
that  the  Lord  was  leading  two  peoples  to  this  land. 
Or  it  may  have  been  a  mixture  of  these  tribes.  But 
as  they  occupied  in  the  land  of  Joseph,  their  tribal 
identity  was  lost  in  Joseph,  just  as  certain  other  tribes 
dwelling  in  Jerusalem  lost  their  tribal  identity 
in  Judah.  1  Chronicles  9 : 3  tells  us  that  the 
children  of  Benjamin,  Judah,  Ephraim,  and  Manasseh 
dwelt  in  Jerusalem.  So  it  may  have  been  any  of  this 
mixture  which  the  Lord  led  out.  But  we  can  trace 
Manasseh  through  the  prophecies  regarding  Heshbon 
and  Judah  through  the  seed  of  the  king  and  by  Hazor." 

"That  seems  remarkable  to  me,"  Stanley  said. 

"Do  you  remember  our  foundation  verse,  Stanley?" 
Alfred  questioned:  "  'This  is  the  Lord's  doings  and  it 
is  marvelous  in  our  eyes.' 

"We  have  overlooked  one  consideration,"  Alfred 
went  on.  "That  is  our  reason  for  thinking  that  these 
people,  termed  Hazor  (Jeremiah  49:30),  were  to  flee 
also  to  Joseph's  land.    Notice  the  wording,  'Arise,  get 


326  THE   CALL  AT'  EVENING 

you  up  into  the  wealthy  nation,  that  dwelleth  without 
care,  saith  the  Lord,  which  have  neither  gates  nor  bars, 
which  dwell  alone.'  " 

''What  I  can't  see,"  Bill  Lakeman  said,  *'is  what 
the  Lord  expects  to  accomplish  by  all  this.  I  can  see 
that  it  would  be  a  nice  thing  for  these  people  to  be  led 
to  safety,  but  when  you  started  out  you  were  going  to 
show  how  the  Lord  intended  to  preserve  his  truth 
through  the  apostasy  of  the  church  and  the  rejection 
of  the  Jews.  It  seems  to  me  we  have  drifted  from 
that." 

''Yes,"  Alfred  said,  "we  have,  but  we  are  ready  to 
come  back  to  it  very  soon.  The  Lord  knew  that  after  the 
world  had  passed  through  its  period  of  darkness,  that 
he  would  need  very  strong  evidence  to  restore  faith, 
or  perhaps  I  should  say  'the  faith'  to  the  earth.  Now 
he  had  placed  his  truth  with  Israel,  his  chosen  people, 
and  desired  that  they  should  cultivate  his  vineyard* 
As  we  said  before,  they  failed,  and  because  they  failed 
were  scattered  and  rejected.  Yet  the  .knowledge  of 
God  and  the  inspiration  of  God  were  with  these  people. 
The  Lord  led  away  these  branches  in  the  day  of  the 
work  of  the  greatest  prophets  the  world  has  ever 
known.  Jeremiah,  Isaiah,  and  Ezekiel  were  three  of 
the  many  prophets  of  that  day.  So  the  inspiration  of 
God  was  with  them.  Do  you  remember  what  the  Lord 
said  about  it? 

"  'As  new  wine  is  found  in  the  cluster  and  one  saith. 
Destroy  it  not ;  for  a  blessing  is  in  it :  so  will  I  do  .  .  . 
that  I  may  not  destroy  them  all.' 


"THE  LAND  SHADOWING  WITH  WINGS"      ;327 

''They  had  the  blessing  of  truth  and  inspiration,  but 
in  order  to  preserve  that,  it  was  necessary  that  they 
be  removed  from  the  contaminating  influence  of  the 
heathen.  So  the  Lord  said,  'Flee,  get  thee  far  off, 
dwell  deep'  (secretly).  He  wanted  them  to  get  'far 
off'  to"  the  rich  land,  where  they  could  dwell  safely, 
where  there  were  no  surrounding  warlike  kings  to 
harass  them,  where  they  would  need  no  walls  around 
their  cities  (neither  gates  nor  bars),  where  they  would 
be  isolated  from  the  rest  of  the  world  (dwell  alone)." 

Stanley  picked  up  the  globe  and  studied  the  lands 
of  the  world  carefully. 

"There's  only  one  place  that  will  answer  that  de- 
scription," he  said. 

Alfred  came  and  looked  over  his  shoulder. 

"And  that  is,"  he  affirmed,  "  'the  land  shadowing 
with  wings. '  The  Lord  led  them  here,  that,  shut  away 
from  the  knowledge  of  the  rest  of  the  world,  he  might 
preserve  his  truth  and  bring  it  triumphant  through 
the  period  of  darkness." 

"It's  a  beautiful  study,  boy,"  Bill  Lakeman  said, 
"a  beautiful  study.  But  did  it,  or  can  it,  accomplish 
that?  It  is  no  new  thought  that  the  aborigines  of  Amer- 
ica are  of  Jewish  descent.  I  have  studied  archaeology 
enough  to  know  that  strong  evidence  points  that  way. 
But  did  it  accomplish  its  work?  America  has  been 
discovered  many  years.  Is  the  world  any  nearer  a 
knowledge  of  God  to-day  because  the  Lord  led  them 
here?  Did  they  preserve  his  truth?  It  seems  to  me 
those  people  were  as  far  from  a  knowledge   of  the 


328  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

truth  when  they  were  discovered  as  the  people  on  the 
other  continent.    How  do  you  figure  it  out  ? ' ' 

''You  said  a  moment  ago,  Mr.  Lakeman,  that  you 
had  studied  American  archaeology  somewhat.  Tell 
me  this:  did  the  highest  civilization  of  these  people 
exist  when  America  was  discovered?" 

''No,"  the  old  man  answered,  "the  highest  civiliza- 
tion was  dead  hundreds  of  years  before.  The  highest 
civilization  at  that  time,  the  Aztecs,  was  only  a  re- 
flected civilization." 

"It  is  not  the  living  testimony  of  the  Jews  to-day," 
Alfred  went  on,  "that  is  enlightening  the  world.  It 
is  their  written  testimony  found  here  in  the  Bible 
which  God  by  his  power  has  preserved. 

"That  old  civilization  of  this  continent  was  gone, 
Mr.  Lakeman ;  yet  as  God  had  preserved  the  testimony 
of  Judah  by  his  power,  so  he  preserved  their  testimony. 

"Christ  said,  'In  the  mouth  of  two  or  three  witnesses 
shall  every  word  be  established.'. 

"The  men  of  God  in  times  of  old  left  their  testi- 
mony to  us  here  in  the  Bible.  By  it  we  are  told  that 
Jesus  is  the  Christ  and  through  him  comes  salvation 
into  the  world.  While  here,"  Alfred  held  up  another 
book,  "is  the  record  or  history  of  that  old  civilization, 
telling  us  that  Jesus  is  indeed  the  Christ,  the  Savior 
of  all  men.  Thus  from  two  separate,  isolated  sources 
comes  to  us  the  same  testimony. 

"Just  as  Judah  here  gives  us  his  testimony,  so  does 
Joseph  here  give  us  his,  that  they  two  may  speak  the 
truth  in  such  unmistakable  terms  that  the  world  need 
not  doubt." 


"THE  LAND  SHADOWING  WITH  WINGS"      329 

''Is  that  what  the  Book  of  Mormon  is?"  Bill  Lake- 
man  asked.  ''I  always  thought  it  was  some  kind  of 
a  Bible  which  took  the  place  of  this  in  the  minds  of 
those  who  accepted  it.'' 

''There  is  nothing  in  the  world,  Mr.  Lakeman,  nor 
ever  shall  be,  which  will  take  the  place  of  the  Bible. 
God  has  preserved  it  miraculously  that  through  its 
teachings  the  world  might  learn  of  him  and  be  saved. 

"Yet  why  should  it  be  counted  strange/'  he  went 
on  when  the  other  did  not  speak,  "that  as  the  Lord 
led  them  out  from  the  danger  of  the  old  world,  these 
bi»anches  of  Joseph  and  Judah,  that  he  should  continue 
to  reveal  his  will  unto  them,  even  as  he  did  to  their 
brethren  across  the  waters,  or  that  they,  like  Judah, 
should  keep  a  record  of  those  things,  that  in  the  time 
of  the  world's  doubt,  the  Lord  might  bring  forth  that 
record?  And  their  testimony  with  the  testimony  of 
Judah  should  show  beyond  a  doubt  that  Jesus  is  the 
Christ." 

"Well,  it  always  did  seem  funny  to  me,"  Bill  Lake- 
man  said,  "that  Grod  never  spoke  to  anybody  but  the 
Jews.  That  was  one  reason  I  always  thought  he  never 
really  did  speak  to  them.  Now  if  he  led  those  people 
over  here  as  we  have  been  studying,  it  would  be  the 
most  natural  thing  in  the  world  that  he  should  continue 
to  speak  to  them  as  he  had  done  before." 

"So  it  seems  to  me,"  Alfred  agreed. 

"Now,  once  more  let  us  summarize,"  he  went  on. 
"We  studied  from  the  Bible  first  where  God  said  he 
would  scatter  some  of  his  people  to  the  land  shadowing 
with  wings,  which  is  beyond  the  rivers  of  Ethiopia. 


330^  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

*"  Second,  that  he  had  given  to  Joseph  a  very  rich 
land. 

' '  Third,  that  Heshbon,  where  dwelt  many  of  the 
children  of  Manasseh,  Joseph's  first  born,  should  wan- 
der through  the  wilderness  and  across  the  sea. 

*' Fourth,  that  God  would  remove,  or  clip  from 
King  Zedekiah's  household  some  who  would  not  fall 
into  the  clutches  of  the  eagle,  the  king  of  Babylon,  and 
that  these  should  be  established  on  a  choice  mountain 
or  land. 

*' Fifth,  from  Hazor  should  also  come  a  people  to  a 
mighty,  isolated,  rich  land. 

''Sixth,  out  of  Jacob  and  Judah  should  come  an  in- 
heritor for  the  mountains. 

''Now  this  book,"  Alfred  continued,  "tells  us  that 
a  company  of  the  tribe  of  Manasseh,,  descendants  of 
Joseph,  were  led  from  Jerusalem,  having  been  told  of 
the  coming  destruction  of  that  city  and  the  captivity 
of  the  people,  and  warned  of  the  Lord  to  flee  into  the 
wilderness.  We  are  told  how  they  wandered  in  the 
Wilderness  as  the  Bible  said  they  would,  and  at  last 
crossed  the  sea  to  the  lands  now  known  as  America, 
known  to  them  as  'the  choice  land.' 

"It  also  tell  us  of  another  company,  including  one 
of  the  sons  of  Zedekiah,  which  was  led  by  the  Lord  out 
of  Jerusalem  at  the  time  of  its  overthrow. " 
.  Alfred  pulled  the  globe  of  the  world  to  him  once 
more  and  turned  it  so  all  could  see. 

J'The  first  colony  I  mentioned,  the  descendants  of 
Joseph,"  he  went  on, "landed  here  in  South  America 


"THE  LAND  SHADOWING  WITH  WINGS"      381 

on  the  west  coast  of  Chile,  and  gradually  worked  their 
way  north. 

''The  second  colony  landed  up  here  on  the  Isthmus 
of  Panama  and  drifted  south.  They  finally  met  and 
amalgamated,  growing  into  the  old  civilization  Mr. 
Lakeman  mentioned,  or  the  'goodly  tree'  which  the 
Lord  promised  they  should  grow  into  on  the  moun- 
tain, 'high  and  eminent.'  It  is  a  remarkable  evidence 
of  the  fulfillment  of  prophecy,  another  demonstration 
of  the  wonderful  harmony  of  truth. 

"The  Lord  continued  to  reveal  to  them  his  will  and 
they,  like  Judah,  made  the  record  which  gives  additional 
testimony  to  the  truthfulness  of  the  gospel  and  the 
comforting  assurance  that  the  God  of  the  past  still 
lives.'' 

''Will  you  let  me  read  that  book?"  Bill  Lakeman 
asked. 

"Gladly,"  Alfred  answered. 

"To-morrow  night  we  will  study  the  coming  forth 
of  the  church  out  of  the  wilderness,  and  also  other 
prophecies  in  the  Bible  regarding  the  coming  forth 
of  this  record  of  Joseph,  for  the  Lord  has  not  left  him- 
self without  a  witness." 

Once  again  they  parted.  Stanley  rode  as  far  as  the 
highway  with  Jennie  on  his  return  to  the  hospital. 
About  an  hour  later  Alfred  heard  the  crunching  of 
buggy  wheels  in  the  barnyard  and  the  quiet  shutting 
of  a  door  and  knew  that  Aunt  Sophronia  had  accom- 
plished her  mission.  Then  the  scene  changed  and  he 
wandered  once  more  through  the  fields  and  meadows 


332  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

of  his  boyhood  and  basked  in  the  confusion  of  forgotten 
memories,  while  over  all  the  darkness  deepened  as  it 
settled  with  a  gentle  relaxation,  and  the  world  slept. 


CHAPTER  29 
WHEN  CONDITIONS  CHANGE 

Twilight  is  stealing 

Over  the  sea; 
Shadows   are  falling 

Dark  on  the  lea; 
Borne  on  the  night  winds 

Voices  of  yore 
Come  from  that  far-oflP  shore. 

CYNTHIA  sat  at  her  machine  where  great  stacks 
of  half -finished  trousers  were  piled  high  on  each 
side.  Her  face  was  bright  and  she  sang  in  har- 
mony with  the  steady  hum  of  her  machine,  a  certain 
glad  quality  adding  to  the  usual  melody  of  her  tone. 

She  could  not  have  told  why  her  heart  was  glad, 
but  for  some  reason  the  world  seemed  very  friendly 
and  she  felt  that  she  had  no  quarrel  with  fate.  She 
did  not  see  that  three  times  during  the  morning  the 
foreman  had  walked  in  her  direction  with  the  evident 
intention  of  speaking  to  her,  but  that  each  time  as  he 
neared  her  chair,  the  frown  suddenly  deepened  on  his 
face  and  he  turned  away  muttering  darkly.  Just  at 
that  moment  he  walked  toward  her  again  with  the  air 
of  a  man  who  would  perform  an  errand  quickly  ere 
his  courage  failed.  As  he  drew  near,  Cynthia's  voice 
rose  above  the  din  of  the  machine  clear  and  full: 


334  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

Far  away,  beyond  the  starlit  skies, 
Where  the  love-light  never,  never  dies, 

Gleameth  a  mansion 
Filled  with  delight, 
Sweet,  happy  home  so  bright. 

The  man  stopped  suddenly  and  raising  his  foot  ex- 
pressed his  feelings  by  a  resounding  kick  against  the 
side  of  an  unoffending  box  near  him.  The  box  in  mute 
astonishment  at  the  unprovoked  assault  overturned, 
littering  the  floor  with  the  pieces  which  filled  it.  Not 
satisfied,  the  man  kicked  again  vehemently  into  the 
pile  of  scraps,  sending  them  flying  in  relays  to  the 
opposite  side  of  the  room. 

''What's  the  matter  with  the  boss?"  one  girl  in- 
quired of  her  companion. 

''Got  an  awful  grouch  on,"  the  other  returned 
cautiously;  "better  watch  your  work.  There's  the 
whistle." 

Instantly  all  was  confusion,  needles  stopped,  poised 
in  the  air,  stitches  untaken.  Chairs  were  overturned 
in  the  hurry  to  leave  the  machines.  Trouser  legs, 
half  pressed,  still  steamed  and  the  cutters'  knives 
stuck  in  the  cloth.  The  last  blast  of  the  whistle  had 
scarcely  died  away  ere  the  room  was  deserted.  Cynthia 
Brown  was  among  the  last  to  approach  the  stairway. 
The  knob  of  the  door  was  in  her  hand  when  the  fore- 
man spoke. 

"I  want  to  see  you  a  moment,  Cynthia,"  he  said. 

The  girl  looked  up  in  surprise,  a  vague  fear  clutching 
at  her  heart.    When  he  hesitated  she  voiced  her  dread. 


WHEN  CONDITIONS  CHANGE  335 

''What's  the  matter,  Mr.  Grey — is — ^has  any  of  my 
work  come  back?" 

' '  No,  Cynthia,  it  hasn  't.  It  never  does, ' '  he  returned, 
his  voice  deep  in  his  throat,  his  face  white  with  in- 
dignation. ''If  it  ever  did  I  could  understand  things 
better.  I've  told  you  before,  you've  got  all  the  girls 
beat  as  far  as  work  is  concerned,  but  regardless  of  all 
that,  I've  got  to  fire  you." 

"Fire  me!"  The  girl  staggered  back  against  the 
great  rolls  of  cloth  behind  her.  The  color  faded  from 
her  cheeks  and  she  caught  at  the  table  for  support. 

"Oh,  Mr.  Grey,  surely  not!     Why?" 

"Why?  I'd  like  to  know  that  myself.  I  don't  know 
why !  I  only  know  I've  got  orders  to  fire  the  best  hand 
I've  got,  for  no  reason  that  I  can  see. 

"Don't  look  like  that,  Cynthia,"  he  begged.  "I'd 
rather  lose  my  own  job  than  tell  you  this." 

"Mr.  Grey,  do  you — do  you  know  what  that  means 
to  me?" 

"Do  I?"  he  echoed.  "I  haven't  thought  of  any- 
thing else  all  morning. 

"It  isn't  much  of  a  job,"  he  went  on,  "but  I  don't 
know  where  you'll  get  another  one.    Not  in  this  town." 

"Oh,"  she  faltered,  "I  don't  know  what  I'll  do!  I 
I  don't  know  what  I'll  do!  I  wouldn't  care  for  my- 
self but " 

"I  know,"  he  said  in  crude  sympathy;  "it's  your 
mother.    I  can't  help  it,  girl;  I  would  if  I  could." 

"Oh,  I  know,  Mr.  Grey,"  she  said,  "I  know  it  isn't 
your  fault." 


336  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

*'I  can't  understand  it,"  he  said  again.  ''I  thought 
you  were  on  good  terms  with  the  old  man's  family." 

''Did  Mr.  Burnside  order  me  fired?"  she  asked. 

**Yes,"  he  replied;  "called  me  down  as  soon  as  he 
came  this  morning.     Do  you  know  why?" 

"Yes,"  she  answered,  "I  expect  I  do  know  why." 

"Crooked  old  snake.  I'd  like  to  be  able  to  quit 
him  myself.    If  it  wasn't  for  my  family  I  would." 

"That  would  do  no  good,  Mr.  Grey,"  Cynthia  said. 
"I  don't  know  what  the  girls  would  do  if  you'd  leave 
here.  You  must  not  think  of  such  a  thing.  When  does 
this  take  effect?    When  am  I  to  go?" 

"I'll  tell  you,"  he  said  in  a  confidential  tone;  "you 
finish  up  all  that  has  your  number  on  them.  I'll 
take  time  at  noon  to  number  some  for  you.  That  will 
help  a  little.  I'll  try  to  keep  you  until  Saturday  night. 
It's  the  best  I  can  do." 

"Thank  you,  Mr.  Grey.  It  will  help  greatly.  I'll 
have  time  to  think  things  over  before  I  have  to  tell 
mother. ' ' 

Again  her  voice  broke  and  her  eyes  filled  with  tears. 
The  foreman  swallowed  a  lump  in  his  own  throat. 

"If  the  worst  comes  to  the  worst,  Cynthia,  we'll 
all  help  you  out,"  he  said. 

"Oh,  I  know,"  she  sobbed,  "I  know.  You've  always 
been  good  to  me,  Mr.  Grey."  She  could  say  no  more. 
He  stood  at  the  top  and  watched  her  pass  down  the 
rickety  stairway  to  the  floor  below.  Passing  this  she 
again  descended  the  stairs  leading  to  the  lower  floor  and 
to  the  street.     Then  he  faced  the  direction  of  the 


WHEN  CONDITIONS  CHANGE  337 

office  and  shook  his  fist  at  an  imaginary  Marion  Burn- 
side. 

''If  I  was  half  a  man/'  he  muttered,  ''I'd  wring  your 
neck." 

Cynthia  did  not  go  home.  She  could  not  at  that 
moment  think  of  facing  her  mother  and  explaining 
the  cause  of  her  tears.  She  wanted  most  to  be  alone 
that  she  might  consider  the  problem  before  her  and 
form  some  plan  of  action.  She  was  also  fighting  for 
control  of  the  tears  which  flowed  in  blinding  confusion 
from  her  eyes,  obstructing  her  vision.  She  had  chosen 
a  narrow  walk  in  the  most  unfrequented  part  of  town 
and  pulled  her  white  sunshade  low  over  her  eyes  to 
hide  from  a  passer-by  the  fact  that  she  was  crying. 

Cynthia  knew  the  seriousness  of  her  position;  knew 
that  in  the  little  town  which  had  always  been  her  home 
there  was  no  other  means  of  earning  a  livelihood  open 
to  her.  There  seemed  to  be  nothing  to  which  she 
could  turn. 

"What  will  I  do?"  she  questioned  of  herself;  yet 
from  the  resources  of  her  mind  no  answer  came. 

She  was  unaware  that  hurrying  behind  with  the 
evident  intention  of  overtaking  her  was  a  young  man 
whose  lips  were  just  forming  an  old-time  signal.  When 
she  paused  at  the  corner  and  half  turned  toward  him 
something  in  the  expression  of  her  face  caused  the 
whistle  to  die  on  his  lips  and  he  followed  in  silence. 

Cynthia  had  reached  the  bisection  of  the  streets  and 
paused  a  moment  in  uncertainty.  The  shimmering 
waters  at  the  end  of  the  street  seemed  to  call  her,  and 


338  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

leaving  the  walk  she  took  the  pathway  leading  to  the 
lake. 

The  slight  pause  gave  the  young  man  his  opportunity 
and  she  had  not  gone  far  when  a  friendly  hand  grasped 
her  arm  detainingly. 

"You  are  some  walker,"  he  said  laughingly. 

She  raised  startled  eyes  to  him  and  the  laughter  died 
out  of  his  face. 

' '  What 's  the  matter,  Cynthia  ? "  he  asked.  ' '  Has  some 
one   hurt    your   feelings?" 

''Worse  than  that,  Henry,"  she  answered.  ''I've 
been  fired/' 

"Cynthia  Brown!"  he  exclaimed. 

' '  Yes, ' '  she  said,  "  it 's  true.  Marion  Burnside  ordered 
Mr.  Grey  to  fire  me  this  morning." 

"Why,  Cynthia!    Why?" 

"I  don't  know  unless  he  found  out  that  I  know  some- 
thing of  his  plans.  That's  the  only  thing  I  can  think 
of.*' 

"Well,  I  think  you're  wrong,"  he  said.  "Marion 
Burnside  is  not  the  one  who  is  at  the  bottom  of  that. 
It's  my  father.  I  discovered  last  night  that  he  has  that 
skunk  of  a  Tom  watching  me.  Maybe  he  saw  us  to- 
gether yesterday.  Father  may  think  that  you  have 
something  to  do  with  my  rejection  of  his  kind  sugges- 
tion in  regard  to  my  future." 

"Henry,"   the    girl   remonstrated,   "you're  bitter." 

"Maybe,"  he  agreed,  "but  what  do  you  think  of  it?" 

"Surely,"  she  said,  "he  couldn't  think  that." 

"That's  just  what  he  does  think,"  he  reasserted. 


WHEN  CONDITIONS  CHANGE  339 

They  had  reached  the  beach  and  stood  on  the  white 
sand  at  the  water's  edge.  The  heat  of  the  noonday 
sun  gleamed  on  the  surface  of  the  lake  and  rolled  back, 
cooled  by  its  contact  with  the  water.  A  ripple  on 
the  surface  'neath  the  shade  of  a  great  tree  near  them 
told  of  the  frolic  of  care-free  life  beneath  the  surface, 
and  sent  out  an  appeal  to  the  fishermen ;  but  the  young 
people  not  so  inclined  did  not  see,  engrossed  as  they 
were  with  the  problems  of  their  own  existence.  Cyn- 
thia looked  around  searchingly. 

"Is  Tom  still  watching  you?"  she  asked. 

''I  don't  think  so,"  he  returned  laughing.  '*I  sent 
word  to  father  by  him  that  if  he  didn't  quit  spying 
on  me,  I'd  see  that  he  failed  to  get  the  next  election." 

' '  Henry  Parsons !    You  didn  't  do  that ! ' ' 

''I  did  and  I  meant  it,"  he  said  from  where  he 
stopped  to  untie  a  canoe.  *'I  could  do  it  and  he 
knows  it." 

''Henry,"  Cynthia  asked,  '4f  you  should  ever  get 
into  the  legislature  as  your  father  is,  what  would 
you  do?" 

He  considered  the  question  seriously. 

"I  would  try  first  to  change  some  laws  I  know 
about,"  he  answered.  ''I  don't  know  what  else  I 
would  do.  I  might  think  differently  if  I  were  really 
there." 

A  twig  snapped  suddenly  among  the  willows  above 
them.  Young  Parsons  pushed  the  canoe  he  had  suc- 
ceeded in  liberating  toward  her. 

*'Get  in  there,"  he  directed  and  started  up  the  bank 
in  the  direction  of  the  sound.    *'If  that " 


340  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

He  stopped  and  laughed  boyishly.  An  old  brindle 
cow,  quietly  chewing  her  cud,  stepped  from  among  the 
willows. 

''I'll  be  a  first-class  criminal  if  I  keep  on,"  he  said, 
as  he  took .  his  place  in  the  boat,  ' '  suspicious  of 
every  sound.  At  least  we'll  feel  better  when  we  get 
out  of  hearing. ' ' 

With  the  long,  sure  strokes  of  an  oarsman  he  pulled 
for  the  center  of  the  lake.  As  Cynthia  let  her  hand 
ply  idly  in  the  water,  the  cool,  white  spray  raised  by 
her  fingers  calmed  her  and  she  was  able  to  think 
quietly.  Yet  as  her  mind  dwelt  on  the  problems  of  her 
life  she  could  find  no  solution. 

The  young  man  directed  the  canoe  toward  a  group 
of  islands  in  the  center  of  the  lake.  Reaching  them  he 
guided  the  bark  skillfully  to  where  the  branches  of  a 
large  tree  stretched  over  the  waters.  Here  with  a 
swift  turn  he  shot  the  point  of  the  canoe  toward  the 
bank  and  sprang  to  the  ground  almost  as  soon  as  the 
sands  grated  its  bottom. 

''Now  we  can  talk,"  he  said  as  he  assisted  her  from 
the  boat.    "I  don't  think  Tom  can  follow  us  here." 

Cynthia  sank  to  the  grass  beneath  the  tree  and  re- 
moved her  sunshade,  letting  the  breezes  from  the  lake 
blow  in  her  face,  grateful  for  the  cooling  influence. 

"What  do  you  intend  to  do,  Cynthia?"  Henry  Par- 
sons asked  after  a  time. 

"I  can't  tell  yet,  Henry,"  she  said  with  more  courage 
than  she  had  felt  before.  His  presence  and  sympathy 
gave  her  strength.     "I  can't  very  well  take  mother 


WHEN  CONDITIONS  CHANGE 


341 


away  from  here,  yet  I  can't  see  where  I  can  get  work 
here.    You  know  this  town  and  its  possibilities  along 
that  line/' 
He  nodded  understandingly  but  made  no  reply.  After 


"He  toyed  awhile  with  the  grasses  in  al- 
ienee, then  asked  abruptly :  'Will  you  marry 
me,  Cynthia?'" 


a  time  it  occurred  to  Cynthia  that  there  was  something 
of  embarrassment  in  his  silence.  She  looked  at  him 
questioningly  and  as  she  did  so  his  gaze  dropped  to  the 
ground  where  he  pulled  absently  at  the  bits  of  grass 
beneath  him. 


342  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

^* Cynthia,"  he  said  finally,  "will  you  let  me  help 
-ou?" 

* '  No,  Henry, ' '  she  answered, '  *  I  will  not. ' ' 

*'But,  Cynthia,"  he  started. 

''You  are  generous,  Henry,  but  you  can't  help  here." 

''I  could,  Cynthia." 

''But  I  won't  let  you." 

''Cynthia!" 

"There's  no  use,  Henry,"  she  said  again;  "there's 
just  no  use.  I  will  not  have  assistance  from  you.  You 
have  helped  already  with  your  sympathy.  That  is 
all  you  can  do." 

He  toyed  with  the  grasses  in  silence,  then  asked 
abruptly : 

"Will  you  marry  me,  Cynthia?" 

"No,  not  that  either,"  she  returned.  "You'll  have 
to  give  up,  Henry.  You  cannot  atone  for  what  your 
father  and  Marion  Burnside  have  done." 

"Is  that  the  way  you  regard  it,  Cynthia?"  he  asked. 

"That's  the  truth  of  the  matter,  Henry.  That's  what 
it  amounts  to." 

"Cynthia,"  he  said,  "I'm  sorry  you  feel  that  way. 
Some  day  you  will  know  better.  This  much  you  must 
promise,  if  you  come  to  actual  want  will  you  let  me 
know?" 

"Yes,  Henry,"  she  answered,  "in  that  case,  I'll 
let  you  know.  We  must  go  now;  I  am  to  work  this 
afternoon. ' ' 

He  assisted  her  tenderly  to  arise.  In  his  face  was 
regret  that  he  had  been  unable  to  cope  with  the  situa- 


WHEN  CONDITIONS  CHANGE  343 

tion.  The  girl's  manner  was  casual,  yet  her  face  was 
flushed  and  she  did  not  meet  his  gaze. 

'Tynthia." 

''Yes,  Henry."  She  studied  carefully  a  bunch  of 
trees  at  the  end  of  the  lake,  although  she  had  known 
every  tree  from  childhood.  A  certain  quality  in  his 
voice  had  deepened  the  flush  on  her  cheeks  arid  created 
a  panic  in  her  heart. 

"When  conditions  change,  may  I  ask  that  question 
again?" 

After  what  seemed  an  eternity  to  him,  her  answer 
came,  barely  audible : 

**Yes,  Henry,  when  conditions  change." 


CHAPTER  30 
A  MARVELOUS  WORK  AND  A  WONDER 

WHAT  DO  YOU  think  of  our  study  prospects 
for  to-night?"  Stanley  Lakeman  asked  as  he 
arose  and  walked  to  the  window  where  a 
solid  sheet  of  water  spread  over  the  glass,  obstructing 
his  view. 

''They  look  slim,  don't  they?"  Alfred  Stewart  an- 
swered from  the  doorway  as  he  watched  the  storm. 
** There's  a  regular  little  river  where  the  path  was. 
We  need  the  rain,  but  I  wish  it  had  come  two  hours 
later." 

''I,  too,"  Stanley  said,  coming  to  his  side.  *'I'm  not 
learning  any  too  fast  as  it  is,  but  we'll  have  to  take 
what  comes." 

A  sudden  shaft  of  fire  danced  its  way  across  the 
heavens  and  lighted  the  landscape  with  its  radiance. 

''How's  that  for  lightning?"  Stanley  asked,  his  eyes 
alight  with  enthusiasm.    "Some  glare!" 

"Magnificent,"  Alfred  started,  but  his  voice  was 
lost  in  the  peal  of  thunder  following.  When  it  had 
passed  Stanley's  laugh  was  drowned  by  the  steady  roar 
of  the  downpouring  rain. 

Bill  Lakeman  coming  into  the  room  joined  them  in  the 
doorway.  The  enthusiasm  in  his  eyes  equaled  that  of 
his  son  as  they  watched  the  willows  along  the  creek  far 
below  bend  and  sway  with  the  fury  of  the  storm.    Stan- 


A  MARVELOUS  WORK  AND  A  WONDER  345 

ley  knew  his  father's  love  for  nature  in  action  and 
shared  the  old  man's  boyish  desire  to  get  out  and 
battle  with  the  forces  in  operation.  He  inhaled  deeply 
the  scented  air. 

** Doesn't  it  smell  good?"  he  commented. 

But  something  else  had  attracted  Bill  Lakeman  's  eye. 

''Look,  boy,"  he  said,  pointing  in  the  direction  of  the 
grove. 

** Jumping  Jupiter!"  Stanley  exclaimed.  ''If  it  isn't 
Jennie." 

Bill  Lakeman  stepped  into  a  closet  and  appeared  with 
a  long  coat  over  his  arm. 

"Here,  Stanley,"  he  called  as  Stanley  started  out  of 
the  door  uncovered,  "take  this  coat." 

"That  girl's  got  nerve,"  the  old  man  commented  as 
they  watched  Stanley  slipping  and  sliding  along  the 
clay  surface  of  the  path  to  where  Jennie  was  dismount- 
ing at  the  gate.  Stanley  led  Daisy  away  to  the  barn 
and  Jennie  made  her  way  to  the  house. 

"Come  in  out  of  the  rain,"  Bill  Lakeman  urged. 
"You'll  drown." 

"Oh,  no,"  Jennie  retorted;  "just  let  me  drip  here 
awhile.    It 's  dry  behind  these  ivy  vines. ' ' 

She  removed  her  raincoat,  hat,  and  rubber  boots  and 
left  them  beneath  the  shelter  of  the  porch. 

"The  water  will  run  off  them  there,"  she  said. 

"I'm  surprised  you  had  the  courage  to  face  it,"  Al- 
fred commented  as  she  came  in. 

* '  Courage, ' '  she  echoed  laughingly.  ' '  The  temptation 
to  get  out  in  this  rain  was  too  great;  I  couldn't  resist. 
Also  I  didn't  want  to  miss  the  study." 


346  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

''We  promised  ourselves  last  night/*  Alfred  said  a 
short  time  later  when  they  had  gathered  around  the 
tables  and  Stanley  had  closed  the  door  to  shut  out  the 
noise  of  the  storm,  ' '  that  we  would  consider  the  coming 
of  the  church  out  of  the  wilderness.  That  will  be  the 
first  division  of  our  study. 

' '  That  -we  may  more  fully  comprehend  the  things  we 
shall  study  to-night,  we  will  summarize  again  the  condi- 
tions as  we  left  them.  In  our  study  we  have  considered 
the  setting  up  of  the  church  by  Christ.  We  saw  that 
church  clothed  in  power  and  in  communion  with  heaven. 
Later  we  saw  it  besieged  of  the  Devil,  the  dragon,  and 
prevailed  against.  (Daniel  7:21.)  Thus  the  church 
was  lost  in  the  wilderness.  (Revelation  12.)  The  power 
of  the  holy  people  scattered.    (Daniel  12 :  7.) 

"That  is  not  all;  his  chosen  people  had  entered  upon 
their  long  dispersion.  Jerusalem  was  trodden  down  of 
the  Gentiles.'* 

"A  dark  picture,  boy,*'  Bill  Lakeman  commented. 
"A  dark  picture." 

"Yes,"  Alfred  answered,  "it  is  dark.  The  Lord  in 
looking  forward  to  it  spoke  of  it  as  a  time  when  'dark- 
ness should  cover  the  earth  and  gross  darkness  the 
minds  of  the  people.'  (Isaiah  60:2.)  Yet  the  Lord 
gives  us  the  encouragement  that  'at  evening  time  it 
shall  be  light. '    (Zechariah  14 :  7. )  " 

"What  do  you  understand  by  that?"  Jennie  asked. 

"The  evening  time  of  the  earth,"  Alfred  answered, 
"is  that  same  time  spoken  of  in  Daniel  as  'the  time 
of  the  end.'  " 

"Well,  then,  what  is  the  meaning  of  the  statement. 


A  MARVELOUS  WORK  AND  A  WONDER  347 

*'at  evening  time  it  shall  be  light'?"  The  question  was 
Stanley's. 

''The  answer  is  found,  Stanley,  in  Psalm  119:130. 
You  might  read  it." 

''It  says,  'The  entrance  of  thy  word  giveth  light.'  " 

"Now  verse  105." 

' '  '  Thy  word  is  a  lamp  unto  my  feet  and  a  light  unto 
my  path.'  " 

"Now  we  can  understand  something  of  the  nature  of 
the  darkness  that  was  upon  the  earth.  It  was,  of  course, 
not  a  literal  darkness.  The  Lord  expresses  it  in  a  dif- 
ferent way  in  Amos  8 :  9.  Mr.  Lakeman,  will  you  look 
it  up,  please?" 

"It  says  the  Lord  will  send  a  famine  in  the  land;  not 
a  famine  of  bread,  but  of  hearing  the  word  of  the 
Lord." 

' '  Now,  Miss  Lakeman,  Isaiah  29 :  10. " 

"  'For  the  Lord  hath  poured  out  upon  you  the  spirit 
of  deep  sleep,  and  hath  closed  your  eyes:  the  prophets 
and  your  ruler,  the  seers  hath  he  covered.'  " 

"Do  you  remember,"  Alfred  asked,  "the  parable  of 
the  two  captains?  The  army  of  the  prince  no  longer 
desired  the  messages  sent  from  the  palace  of  the  king, 
but  felt  themselves  strong  enough  to  fight  the  battle 
alone.  The  world  was  in  that  condition.  Man  trusted 
himself  rather  than  God.  So  the  Lord  sent  the  famine, 
not  of  bread,  but  that  time  in  the  history  of  the  world 
when  he  no  longer  sent  his  messages.  When  he  covered 
the  prophets  and  the  seers,  the  result  was — darkness. 
Yet  there  was  to  come  a  time  when  from  among  the 
faithful  the  Lord  would  again  organize  his  army  and 


348  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

take  up  the  battle  against  the  enemy.  (Revelation 
17:14.) 

"Isaiah  58:8  tells  us,  ^Then  shall  thy  light  break 
forth  as  the  morning.  * 

''Now,  Mr.  Lakeman,  Isaiah  29:14.'* 

*'  'Therefore,  behold,  I  will  proceed  to  do  a  marvelous 
work  among  this  people,  even  a  marvelous  work  and  a 
wonder :  for  the  wisdom  of  their  wise  men  shall  perish, 
and  the  understanding  of  their  prudent  men  shall 
be  hid.'  " 

' '  Now,  Stanley,  Habakkuk  1:5.'* 

*'  'Behold  ye  among  the  heathen,  and  regard,  and 
wonder  marvelously:  for  I  will  work  a  work  in  your 
days,  which  ye  will  not  believe,  though  it  be  told  you.'  " 

"I  want  to  couple  with  that,"  Alfred  went  on,  "a 
statement  in  Ephesians  1 :  10  which  reads :  . '  That  in 
the  dispensation  of  the  fullness  of  times  he  might  gather 
together  in  one  all  things  in  Christ.' 

"Also  Acts  3:  21:  'Until  the  times  of  restitution  of 
all  things,  which  God  hath  spoken  by  the  mOuth  of  all 
his  holy  prophets  since  the  world  began.'  " 

"I'd  like  to  know  what  you  are  talking  about," 
Stanley  said. 

"I  am  talking,"  Alfred  answered  him,  "about  that 
time  when  the  Lord  shall  arise  to  maintain  his  own 
cause ;  when  he  shall  call  together  the  few  who  are  will- 
ing to  receive  his  commandments,  and  shall  again  go 
against  the  enemy  to  battle;  when  there  shall  no  more 
be  a  famine  of  the  hearing  the  word  of  the  Lord,  but 
when  the  Lord  shall  again  speak  and  direct  his  work 


A  MARVELOUS  WORK  AND  A  WONDER  349 

as  in  the  days  of  old;  the  evening  time  when  it  shall 
be  light. 

*'He  shall  call  his  church  out  of  the  wilderness.  That 
gospel,  the  word  of  God,  in  the  times  of  the  restitution 
of  all  things  shall  be  preached  once  more  in  the  world, 
and  thus  the  entrance  of  his  word  shall  dispel  the 
gloom  and  at  evening  time  it  shall  be  light.** 

*'Do  you  think  he  will  ever  do  that?**  Jennie  asked. 

"Listen,**  Alfred  said.  *' Isaiah  49:22  tells  us  that 
in  the  day  when  Israel  shall  be  gathered,  the  Lord  will 
set  up  a  standard  to  the  people  (Isaiah  18:3);  that 
in  the  sight  of  the  the  inhabitants  of  all  the  earth  he  is 
going  to  set  up  an  ensign  on  the  mountains.*' 

''What  do  you  think  all  that  means?**  Stanley  asked. 

''There  are  three  verses  in  the  Bible  which  I  think 
will  explain  this  matter,"  Alfred  answered.  "The 
first  is  Daniel  2:44.    Read  it.  Miss  Lakeman,  please.*' 

"  'And  in  the  days  of  these  kings  shall  the  God  of 
heaven  set  up  a  kingdom,  which  shall  never  be  de- 
stroyed.' " 

"We  shall  remember  that  the  gospel  of  Christ  is 
the  ensign  of  salvation,  and  that  his  church  and  his 
kingdom  are  synonymous.  So  we  see  that  the  prophets 
were  looking  down  to  that  time  when  his  gospel  should 
again  be  preached,  when  his  church  should  again 
be  established  in  the  last  days." 

"Don't  you  think  that  verse  refers  to  the  kingdom 
set  up  by  Christ  when  he  was  here  on  earth?"  Jennie 
asked. 

"No,"  Alfred  said,  "it  could  not  be.  If  you  will  study 
that  vision  when  yt)u  go  home  you  will  see  that  this 


360  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

kingdom  of  God  will  be  set  up  during  the  time  of  the 
kingdoms  into  which  Rome  was  divided — 4n  the  days 
of  these  kings. '  That  would  bring  it  down  to  that  time 
commonly  known  as  the  latter  days. 

"He  speaks  of  the  same  thing  in  Isaiah  2:2.  Mr. 
Lakeman,  will  you  turn  and  read  it,  please?" 

"  'And  it  shall  come  to  pass  in  the  last  days,  that 
the  mountain  of  the  Lord's  house  shall  be  established 
in  the  top  of  the  mountains,  and  shall  be  exalted  above 
the  hills.'" 

"Throughout  the  Bible,"  Alfred  oontinued  in  ex- 
planation, "the  kingdoms  of  the  earth,  its  lands,  and 
people,  are  spoken  of  as  mountains  and  hills.  Those 
people  who  served  God  and  were  his  people  are  spoken 
of  as  mountains.  Those  not  serving  him  could  not 
attain  to  the  heights  of  those  who  did  and  are  called 
hills.  The  Lord  is  giving  us  the  encouragement  to  know 
that  although  the  dragon  prevailed  for  a  time  over  his 
church  and  kingdom,  yet  the  time  would  come,  in  the 
last  days,  when  his  church  would  be  restored  and  estab- 
lished on  the  tops  of  the  mountains  and  shall  be  exalted 
above  the  nations  of  the  world.  From  his  choice  lands 
should  his  message  go. 

"That  prophet  speaks  of  this  great  event  again  in 
Isaiah  18:3.    Miss  Bumside,  will  you  read?" 

"  'And  ye  inhabitants  of  the  world,  and  dwellers 
on  the  earth,  see  ye,  when  he  lifteth  up  an  ensign 
on  the  mountains;  and  when  he  bloweth  a  trumpet 
hear  ye.'  " 

"Where  is  this  ensign  to  be  lifted  up?" 

"Just  where  the  Lord  said  he"* would  establish  his 


A  MARVELOUS  WORK  AND  A  WONDER  351 

kingdom:  'on  the  mountains.'  We  learned  that  there 
were  two  mountains  equal  in  height,  the  mountain  of 
Israel  and  the  land  shadowing  with  wings,  Joseph's 
land.  The  Bible  goes  farther;  it  tells  us  upon  which  of 
these  two  mountains  the  ensign  is  to  be  raised.  One  of 
them  was  to  send  out  a  message,  a  message  that  would 
be  of  special  interest  to  scattered  Israel.  A  part  of  the 
message  which  their  swift  running  vessels  was  to  bear 
to  the  world  was: 

'*  'AH  ye  inhabitants  of  the  world,  and  dwellers  on  the 
earth,  see  ye,  when  he  lifteth  up  an  ensign  on  the  moun- 
tains ;  and  when  he  bloweth  a  trumpet,  hear  ye. ' 

''Now,  Mr.  Lakeman,  from  this  eighteenth  chapter 
of  Isaiah,  tell  us  which  of  these  two  mountains  should 
give  that  message  to  the  earth." 

"Why,"  the  old  man  said  thoughtfully,  "the  land 
shadowing  with  wings,  which  is  beyond  the  rivers  of 
Ethiopia." 

"Yes,"  Alfred  said.  "Now,  do  you  remember  a 
peculiar  statement  made  by  Christ  when  he  was  on 
earth?  'The  first  shall  be  last,  and  the  last  shall  be 
first'?  Christ  established  his  church  1900  years  ago 
on  the  mountain  of  Israel.  From  them  it  went  to 
scattered  Israel  and  the  nations  of  the  earth.  In  the 
last  days  when  the  mountains  of  the  Lord's  house  shall 
be  established,  when  the  ensign  is  raised,  the  trumpet 
blown,  it  shall  not  be  first  upon  the  mountain  of  Israel, 
but  upon  that  other  mountain  equal  in  height,  the  land 
shadowing  with  wings,  the  great  American  Continent, 
Joseph's  land.  Prom  them  Isaiah  tells  us  shall  the 
message  go  to  Israel,  and  thus  'the  first  shall  be  last, 
and  the  last  shall  be  first. '  " 


352  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

''Do  you  think  that  all  these  verses  mean  the  same 
thing  ? ' '  Stanley  asked. ' '  Is  the  mountain  of  the  Lord 's 
house,  and  the  ensign,  and  the  trumpet  all  the  same?'' 

*'I  regard  it  so/'  Alfred  said.  ''The  gospel  of  Christ 
is  the  trumpet  which  the  Lord  is  going  to  blow  in  the 
hearing  of  all  the  world.  (Matthew  24.)  His  church 
will  be  restored  in  its  power.  Let  us  turn  now  to 
Daniel  2.  Mr.  Lakeman,  will  you  read,  beginning  with 
verse  31?" 

"  'Thou,  0  king,  sawest,  and  beheld  a  great  image. 
This  great  image,  whose  brightness  was  excellent, 
stood  before  thee;  and  the  form  thereof  was  terrible. 
This  image's  head  was  of  fine  gold,  his  breast  and  his 
arms  of  silver,  his  belly  and  his  thighs  of  brass,  his  legs 
of  iron,  his  feet  part  of  iron  and  part  of  clay.'  " 

"That  will  do.  Now  notice  especially  verse  34. 
Stanley,  read." 

"  'Thou  sawest  till  that  a  stone  was  cut  out  without 
hands.'  " 

"That  is  a  peculiar  statement,"  Alfred  said.  "A 
stone  cut  out  without  hands.  From  where?  The  Bible 
tells  us.    Miss  Bumside,  verse  45." 

"It  says  the  stone  was  cut  out  of  the  mountain  with- 
out hands." 

' '  How  could  a  stone  be  cut  out  of  the  mountain  with- 
out hands?  I  can't  see  that,"  Stanley  said.  "And 
what  is  the  stone?" 

"The  same  chapter  tells  us  what  the  stone  is,"  Al- 
fred answered.    "You  will  find  it  in  verse  44." 

"  'And  in  the  days  of  these  kings  shaU  the  God  of 
heaven  set  up  a  kingdom.*  " 


A  MARVELOUS  WORK  AND  A  WONDER  353 

''Is  that  the  stone?  Do  you  think  it  means  Christ's 
church?" 

''I  do,"  Alfred  said.  "Verse  35  tells  us  more  about 
the  stone.     "What  became  of  it,  Miss  Burnside?" 

''It  became  a  great  mountain  and  filled  the  whole 
earth." 

"Yes,"  Alfred  said.  "When  the  mountain  of  the 
Lord's  house  shall  be  established,  in  the  last  days,  on 
the  tops  of  the  mountains,  its  beginning  will  seem  small, 
just  a  little  stone  cut  out  of  the  mountain,  yet  it  shall 
grow  until  it  fills  the  whole  earth.  It  shall  be  exalted 
above  the  hills." 

"Well,  I  want  to  know  one  thing  more,"  Stanley 
said.  ' '  What  is  the  meaning  of  the  statement,  '  cut  out 
of  the  mountain  without  hands '  ? " 

"Simply  this,  Stanley,"  Alfred  answered:  "Man 
had  nothing  to  do  with  the  setting  up  of  the  kingdom. 
Human  hands  were  not  the  power  which  cut  it  out 
of  the  mountain.  God  was  going  to  set  up  his  own 
kingdom.  Isaiah  said,  'See  ye,  when  he  lifteth  up  an 
ensign  on  the  mountains,  and  when  he  bloweth  a  trum- 
pet, hear  ye.'  " 

"Well,  I  don't  see  how  the  Lord's  going  to  do  that," 
Bill  Lakeman  spoke  up,  breaking  his  silence. 

"Listen  how;  Revelation  14:  6: 

"  'And  I  saw  another  angel  fly  in  the  midst  of 
heaven,  having  the  everlasting  gospel  to  preach  unto 
them  that  dwell  on  the  earth,  and  to  every  nation,  and 
kindred,  and  tongue,  and  people.' 

"Man  will  not  study  out,  man  will  not  plan  the 
organization  of  the  church  of  Christ  in  the  last  days. 


354  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

Christ  himself  will  send  an  angel  from  heaven,  com- 
missioned to  do  that  work.  An  angel  shall  restore 
that  gospel  which  Christ  said  should  be  preached  in 
all  the  world  for  a  witness  before  the  end  shall  come. 
The  kingdom  of  God  will  once  more  be  with  men  and  al- 
though the  day  preceding  had  been  dark,  yet  'the  light 
shall  break  forth  as  the  morning. '  The  land  shadowing 
with  wings  shall  send  its  message  of  salvation,  and  the 
famine  for  the  word  of  the  Lord  shall  be  broken. 
'At  evening  time  it  shall  be  light,*  the  prophet  said. 

**  *And  it  shall  come  to  pass  in  the  last  days,  I  will 
pour  out  my  spirit  upon  all  flesh:  and  your  sons  and 
your  daughters  shall  prophesy,  and  your  young  men 
shall  see  visions,  and  your  old  men  shall  dream  dreams. 
And  on  my  servants  and  on  my  handmaidens  I  will 
pour  out  in  those  days  of  my  Spirit;  and  they  shall 
prophesy.'  " 

"I  wish  he  would  hurry  and  come,"  Bill  Lakeman 
said  in  a  voice  that  trembled.  "I  wish  that  angel 
would  come." 

"He  has  come,  Mr.  Lakeman,"  Alfred  answered,  his 
own  voice  subdued  with  feeling,  "else  how  could  I  de- 
clare this  message  unto  you?" 

The  old  man  sat  up  and  looked  at  him  questioningly. 

"What  do  you  mean?"  he  asked. 

"Mr.  Lakeman,"  Alfred  said,  "do  you  think  I  of 
myself  am  able  to  study  out  all  I  have  taught  you  here 
during  these  evenings  of  study? 

"I  am  not,"  he  answered  his  own  question.  "This  is 
my  message;  God  has  once  more  established  his  king- 
dom.   He  has  s^nt  his  angel  to  the  earth  with  the  ever- 


A  MARVELOUS  WORK  AND  A  WONDER  355 

lasting  gospel  that  in  its  simplicity  and  its  fullness  it 
might  again  be  preached  in  the  earth.  He  has  organized 
again  his  church.  He  has  taken  command  of  his  army 
and  the  great  dispensation  of  the  restitution  of  all 
things  has  begun. " 

''My  God,"  the  old  man  prayed  unconsciously,  ''I 
wish  it  were  true." 

''It  is  true,"  the  young  man  went  on,  his  voice  deep 
with  the  power  of  his  own  conviction.  Stanley  felt  his 
heart  bum  and  his  frame  tremble  with  the  power  of 
the  words.  ' '  I  have  no  apology  for  coming  to  you  with 
the  statement  that  God  has  spoken  to  the  earth  again. 
He  said  he  would  do  it  and  has  fulfilled  his  word.  He 
has  started  his  marvelous  work  and  a  wonder  which 
like  the  little  stone  cut  out  of  the  mountain,  may  in  the 
beginning  seem  of  little  consequence,  yet  will  end  in 
the  overthrow  of  wickedness  and  in  the  breaking  in 
pieces  of  man-made  institutions  and  the  gathering  to- 
gether in  one  all  things  in  Christ. 

"His  church  is  brought  forth  out  of  the  wilderness, 
and  as  the  head,  the  chief  corner  stone,  he  directs  and 
supports  his  work.  He  has  restored  the  organization  of 
apostles,  prophets,  evangelists,  pastors,  teachers,  bish- 
ops, deacons,  elders,  high  priests.  He  is  giving  as  he 
gave  in  days  gone  by,  the  gifts  of  the  Spirit,  prophecy, 
tongues,  interpretation  of  tongues,  healings,  miracles, 
faith,  knowledge,  wisdom,  helps,  governments.  The 
church  no  longer  walks  in  darkness,  but  is  illuminated 
by  the  light  and  power  of  the  Spirit.  I  can't  seem  to 
make  my  language  expressive  enough,  but  I  do  declare 


356  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

that  Christ  has  established  h"s  kingdom  as  the  Bible 
said  he  would  in  the  last  days  and  that  we  are  living 
in  his  fullness  of  times. ' ' 

*'If  it  were  only  true,"  the  old  man  muttered  again. 
"If  it  were  only  true." 

''The  Lord  has  not  left  himself  without  a  witness," 
Alfred  went  on.  ''Do  you  remember  the  people  he  had 
led  away  and  planted  on  a  mountain  high  and  eminent? 
Do  you  remember  that  Christ  said,  'In  the  mouth  of 
two  or  three  witnesses  shall  every  word  be  established'? 
That  was  the  great  plan  of  God.  Hidden  away  from 
each  other,  the  scattered  people  whom  he  had  chosen 
to  enlighten  the  world  should  make  their  records  which 
would,  when  placed  with  the  record  of  Judah  (the 
Bible)  in  the  great  day  of  the  world's  doubt,  testify  in 
unmistakable  terms  to  the  truthfulness  of  the  gospel  of 
Christ  and  the  unimpeachability  of  the  word  of  God.- 

"There  is  a  prophecy  in  Ezekiel  37: 16,  19  which  we 
will  need  to  consider  in  this  connection.  Let  us  turn 
to  it.    Stanley,  read,  please." 

"  'Moreover,  thou  Son  of  Man,  take  thee  one  stick, 
and  write  upon  it,  for  Judah,  and  for  the  children  of 
Israel  his  companions.'  " 

' '  The  explanation  is  given  in  verse  19. ' ' 

"  'Say  unto  them.  Thus  saith  the  Lord  God;  Behold, 
I  will  take  the  stick  of  Joseph,  which  is  in  the  hand  of 
Ephraim,  and  the  tribes  of  Israel  his  fellows,  and  will 
put  them  with  him,  even  with  the  stick  of  Judah,  and 
make  them  one  stick,  and  they  shall  be  one  in  mine 
hand.'" 

"You  will  notice,"  Alfred  commented,  "from  verse 


A  MARVELOUS  WORK  AND  A  WONDER  357 

16,  that  the  Lord  commanded  the  prophet  to  take  two 
sticks  and  'write  upon  them/  showing  that  the  illus- 
tration referred  to  written  records.  The  one  for  Judah 
we  have  here  in  the  Bible,  that  record  of  Judah  which 
has  been  used  so  long  in  the  hands  of  the  Lord  for  the 
enlightenment  of  the  world.  Yet  what  of  that  other 
record,  the  stick  of  Joseph,  which  the  Lord  said  he 
would  in  the  last  days  use  in  connection  with  the  record 
of  Judah  for  the  salvation  of  the  world  ? 

**How  were  we  to  get  that  record?  As  Mr.  Lakeman 
said  last  night,  America  has  been  discovered  many 
years.  The  record  was  not  with  the  Indians  when  it 
was  discovered.    How  then  was  it  to  come?" 

''How  can  we  know?"  Stanley  asked. 

' '  We  must  learn  from  the  Bible, ' '  Alfred  said.  ' '  Miss 
Bumside,  will  you  read  for  us  a  statement  from  Psalm 
85:11?" 

' '  '  Truth  shall  spring  out  of  the  earth, '  ' '  Jennie  read. 

"Let  us  not  forget  that,"  Alfred  went  on,  "while  we 
study  carefully  the  twenty-ninth  chapter  of  Isaiah. 
This  is  possibly  one  of  the  most  comprehensive  chapters 
in  the  whole  Bible.  The  first  ten  verses  cover  a  great 
stretch  of  the  world's  history.  This  is  shown  by  a 
statement  in  verse  one.  'Add  ye,  year  to  year.'  The 
picture  begins  in  the  city  of  Jerusalem  where  the  whole 
great  drama  started.  Just  a  word  is  given  in  passing, 
yet  by  that  word  we  see  the  dispersion  of  Ariel  (Jeru- 
salem). The  Lord  is  showing  his  Prophet  Isaiah  the 
same  vision  of  the  future  we  have  already  considered 
from  Zephaniah  2,  the  distress  which  was  coming  upon 
Jerusalem  which  would  end  in  the  great  dispersion  even 


858  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

beyond  the  rivers  of  Ethiopia.  Yet  the  Lord  said  they 
should  be  brought  down.  Their  speech  should  be  low 
out  of  the  dust.  Time  passes;  year  is  added  to  year. 
That  time  comes  in  the  history  of  the  world  when, 
Israel  scattered  and  brought  low,  the  Lord  ceases  for 
the  first  time  to  speak  unto  man.  It  is  a  significant  fact 
that  from  the  beginning  until  the  Christian  church 
went  into  apostasy  somewhere  between  the  third  and 
the  sixth  centuries,  the  Lord  always  spoke  to  his  people 
on  earth.  It  was  as  we  have  said.  Isaiah  looking  down 
through  future  generations  saw  that  time  when  the 
prophets  and  the  seers  were  covered  (Isaiah  29:10), 
that  time  when  the  temple  of  the  tabernacle  of  the 
testimony  in  heaven  was  closed." 

"What's  that?"  Stanley  questioned. 

*' We  are  told,"  Alfred  went  on,  "in  the  book  of  Reve- 
lation that  the  testimony  of  Jesus  is  the  spirit  of 
prophecy.  So  the  prophet  saw  that  time  when  Christ 
no  longer  added  to  the  word  the  testimony  of  the  spirit 
of  prophecy.  The  gifts  of  the  gospel  were  not  given; 
the  temple  of  the  tabernacle  of  the  testimony  was 
closed.  A  continuance  of  the  study  of  Revelation  will 
show  it  was  not  until  the  angel  had  flown  in  the  midst 
of  heaven  having  the  everlasting  gospel  to  preach  unto 
them  that  dwell  on  the  earth  (Revelation  14:  6)  that  the 
temple  of  the  tabernacle  of  the  testimony  in  heaven 
was  opened  (Revelation  15:5),  and  communication 
from  heaven  to  earth  was  once  more  established.  Listen 
what  followed — Isaiah  29 :  11 : 

"  'And  the  vision  of  all  is  become  unto  you  as  the 
words  of  a  book  that  is  sealed,  which  men  deliver  to  one 


A  MARVELOUS  WORK  AND  A  WONDER  359 

that  is  learned,  saying,  Read  this,  I  pray  thee :  and  he 
saith,  I  cannot;  for  it  is  sealed.' 

''Read  the  next  verse,  Stanley." 

'*  'And  the  book  is  delivered  to  him  that  is  not 
learned,  saying,  Read  this,  I  pray  thee:  and  he  saith, 
I  am  not  learned.'  " 

' '  I  would  not  have  us  forget, ' '  Alfred  said,  ' '  that  we 
are  striving  to  learn  from  the  Bible  the  manner  in 
which  we  may  expect  the  record  of  Joseph  to  come. 
We  learned  from  the  Bible  (Ezekiel  37 :  15)  that  it  was 
coming.  Now  we  are  trying  to  learn  how,  that  we  may 
recognize  it  when  it  comes. 

"The  Bible  tells  us  that  the  word  of  God  is  truth. 
We  have  learned  now  that  truth  shall  spring  out  of  the 
ground.  We  have  learned  that  scattered  Ariel  (Isaiah 
29:2)  was  to  speak  out  of  the  dust.  We  have  also 
learned  that  in  connection  with  this  speaking  out  of  the 
dust  the  attention  of  the  world  is  going  to  be  directed 
to  a  book,  and  that  two  men  are  to  have  to  do  with  its 
first  reading:  one,  a  wise,  learned  man,  who  will  fail 
to  read  it;  the  other  an  unlearned  man  who,  through 
his  lack  of  learning,  will  also  be  unable  to  read  it." 

"Well,  that's  quite  a  scope,"  Stanley  said.  "Will 
the  book  get  read  ? " 

"Yes,"  Alfred  answered,  "but  not  by  the  power  of 
man.    Miss  Lakeman,  verse  14." 

' '  '  Therefore,  behold,  I  will  proceed  to  do  a  marvelous 
work  among  this  people,  even  a  marvelous  work  and  a 
Wonder :  for  the  wisdom  of  their  wise  men  shall  perish, 


360  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

and  the  understanding  of  their  prudent  men  shall  be 
hid/  '^ 

''Now  verse  18." 

"  'And  in  that  day  shall  the  deaf  hear  the  words  of 
the  book,  and  the  eyes  of  the  blind  shall  see  out  of  ob- 
scurity, and  out  of  darkness/  " 

"The  book  will  come  forth  but  not  by  the  power  of 
man." 

"And  you  think  that  refers  to  the  record  of  Joseph?" 

"Yes,"  Alfred  answered;  "the  two  choice  lands  were 
to  give  their  testimony  to  the  world.  And  they  were 
both  to  come  to  us  by  the  power  of  God.  Although  the 
powers  of  hell  and  the  ignorance  of  men  have  waged 
war  against  it,  this  Bible  has  come  to  us,  preserved 
marvelously  through  the  ages.  This  record  of  Joseph 
has  come  to  us  in  the  same  way,  by  the  power  of  God, 
and  they  two  were  to  become  one  in  the  hands  of  the 
Lord  in  the  last  days.     (Ezekiel  37 :  15,  19.) 

"The  Lord  was  very  particular  in  this  matter.  He 
did  not  want  us  to  make  a  mistake.  So  he  gave  a  sign 
that  we  might  know  when  the  time  had  arrived  and 
the  matter  been  fulfilled.  The  sign  is  promised  in  verses 
17  and  18  of  the  chapter  we  are  studying  (Isaiah  29). 
We  will  listen  while  Miss  Bumside  reads." 

"  'Is  it  not  yet  a  very  little  while,  and  Lebanon 
shall  be  turned  into  a  fruitful  field,  and  the  fruitful 
field  shall  be  esteemed  as  a  forest?*  " 

"That  is  the  sign.  Closely  following  the  coming 
forth  of  the  book  'Lebanon  shall  be  turned  into  a 
fruitful  field.' 

"Now  let  us  look  once  more  at  Psalm  85 :  11 : 


A  MARVELOUS  WORK  AND  A  WONDER   361 

"  'Truth  shall  spring  out  of  the  earth;  and  right- 
eousness shall  look  down  from  heaven.  Yea,  the  Lord 
shall  give  that  which  is  good;  and  our  land  shall  yield 
her  increase.' 

''The  two  prophets  were  looking  forward  to  the 
coming  forth  of  the  records  of  Joseph  which  were 
buried  in  the  earth  until  that  time  when  the  Lord  saw 
fit  to  call  them  forth.  When  their  speech  should  be  low 
out  of  the  dust  and  their  message  should  spring  out  of 
the  earth,  then  the  Lord  would  give  us  a  sign  and  the 
land  of  Palestine  should  'yield  her  increase.'  By  that 
we  were  to  know  that  the  Lord  had  started  his  work, 
that  the  record  of  Joseph  was  among  men,  for  after 
lying  idle  and  desolate  for  hundreds  of  years  the  land 
of  Lebanon  was  to  be  fruitful  again." 

"Well,  the  Lord  must  have  started  his  work  then," 
Bill  Lakeman  said,  "for  that  land  is  fruitful.  The 
rain  began  to  fall  there  before  the  war.  That  land's 
not  desolate  now." 

"No,"  Alfred  said,  "that  land  is  no  longer  desolate. 
The  Lord  has  confirmed  his  work.  He  said  he  would  do 
a  marvelous  work  and  a  wonder,  that  he  would  bring 
truth  out  of  the  ground  and  cause  scattered  Ariel  to 
speak  out  of  the  dust;  that  the  deaf  should  hear  the 
words  of  the  book  and  the  eyes  blinded  by  the  teachings 
of  the  precepts  of  men  should  see  out  of  obscurity  and 
out  of  darkness.  When,  as  it  was  with  you,  Mr.  Lake- 
man,  men  could  not  see  the  way,  then  the  Lord  will 
bring  to  their  aid  the  testimony  of  another  witness. 
When,  from  beyond  the  rivers  of  Ethiopia,  Joseph's 
land,  should  go  forth  the  message,  then  it  was  that  the 


362  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

stick  of  Joseph  should  be  used  in  the  hands  of  the  Lord 
with  the  stick  of  Judah  to  dispel  the  darkness  of  the 
world,  that  we  might  know  that  God  liveth. 

''You  made  the  statement,  Mr.  Lakeman,  that  it 
looked  like  things  had  gone  bad  on  the  hands  of  the 
Lord  all  around:  his  church  in  the  wilderness,  his 
chosen  people  rejected,  and,  I  could  add,  his  choice  land 
desolate.  But  that  was  not  the  final  scene.  From 
Ezekiel  37  we  learn  that  at  the  time  the  two  records 
shall  be  in  God's  hand,  Israel  shall  be  gathered  back 
and  restored  to  their  own  land  a  united  nation.  The 
Lord  says  (Ezekiel  39 :  22,  29) : 

''  'So  the  house  of  Israel  shall  know  that  I  am  the 
Lord  their  God  from  that  day  and  forward.  .  .  .  After 
that  they  have  borne  their  shame,  and  all  their  tres- 
passes whereby  they  have  trespassed  against  me.  Then 
shall  they  know  that  I  am  the  Lord  their  God,  which 
caused  them  to  be  led  into  captivity  among  the  heathen : 
but  I  have  gathered  them  unto  their  own  land,  and  have 
left  none  of  them  any  more  there.  Neither  will  I  hide 
my  face  any  more  from  them:  for  I  have  poured  out 
my  Spirit  upon  the  house  of  Israel,  saith  the  Lord  God. ' 

"So  in  the  final  scene,  the  chosen  people  will  be  re- 
stored, their  land  restored  to  its  fertility.  More  than 
that,  'it  shall  come  to  pass  in  the  last  days,  that  the 
mountain  of  the  Lord's  house  shall  be  established  in 
the  tops  of  the  mountains  and  shall  be  exalted  above 
the  hills.' 

"It  has  been  our  privilege,  Mr.  Lakeman,  to  live  in 
that  'dispensation  of  the  fullness  of  times,'  when  he 
shall  'gather  together  in  one  all  things  in  Christ';  in 


A  MARVELOUS  WORK  AND  A  WONDER   363 

that  glorious  time  when  shall  be  witnessed  the  restitu- 
tion af  all  things  spoken  by  the  mouth  of  all  the  holy 
prophets  since  the  world  began. 

''His  people  may  have  drifted.  The  tide  of  battle 
may  have  gone  against  his  church.  His  army  may  have 
for  a  time  forgotten  his  counsel.  Yet,  in  the  'time  of 
the  restitution  of  all  things,'  'these  shall  make  war  with 
the  Lamb,  and  the  Lamb  shall  overcome  them :  for  he  is 
Lord  of  lords,  and  King  of  kings :  and  they  that  are 
with  him  are  called,  and  chosen,  and  faithful.'  (Reve- 
lation 17:14.) 

' '  The  last  triumphant  picture  we  have  of  the  church 
is  this:  'And  to  her  it  was  granted  that  she  should  be 
arrayed  in  fine  linen,  clean  and  white :  for  the  fine  linen 
is  the  righteousness  of  saints.  Let  us  be  glad  and  re- 
joice and  give  honor  to  him,  for  the  marriage  of  the 
Lamb  is  come,  and  his  wife  has  made  herself  ready. ' 

"No,  Mr.  Lakeman,  I  do  not  fear,  for  the  final  tri- 
umph will  be  with  the  King  of  kings  and  the  Lord  of 
lords.'' 

"Bless  his  name,"  Aunt  Sophronia  murmured  rever- 
ently. 

As  for  Bill  Lakeman  the  tears  rolled  once  more  down 
his  furrowed  cheeks. 

"An  old  man's  life  isn't  much  to  give  him,"  he  said 
in  a  broken  voice.  "But,  oh,  I  would  like  to  be  among 
those  who  are  called  and  chosen  and  faithful.  Why, 
boy,  he's  fought  a  losing  game  for  so  long.  There 
hasn't  been  anybody  to  stand  by  him.  It  seems  like  all 
the  world  pulls  away  from  him  one  way  or  another. 
I  never  understood  before  what  a  big  fight  he  was 


364  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

making,  and  there's  been  no  one  to  fight  with  him." 

''No,"  Alfred  said,  ''he  has  trodden  the  wine  press 
alone.  Yet,  Mr.  Lakeman,  in  the  end  there  were  those 
with  him  who  were  '  called  and  chosen  and  faithful.'  " 

"It's  not  much,"  the  old  man  muttered,  his  frame 
shaking  with  emotion;  "an  old  man's  life  ain't  much 
to  give  him.  But  it's  all  I've  got.  Lord;  it's  all  I've 
got." 

Stanley  stepped  to  his  father's  side,  not  ashamed  of 
the  tears  which  filled  his  own  dark  eyes. 

"Maybe,  father,"  he  said,  "a  young  man's  life 
thrown  in  might  help  a  little.  Maybe  he'd  take  us 
both." 

"God  bless  you,  boy,"  the  old  man  said,  wringing 
his  son's  hand.    "Maybe  he  would;  maybe  he  would." 

As  for  Alfred,  a  joy  so  great  filled  his  heart  that  he 
felt  it  to  be  a  foretaste  of  the  joy  of  that  great  multi- 
tude whose  voice  the  apostle  had  heard,  as  the  voice  of 
many  waters,  and  the  voice  of  mighty  thunderings,  say- 
ing, "Alleluia !  for  the  Lord  God  Omnipotent  reigneth." 


CHAPTER  31 
THE  FACTORY  BURNS — JENNIE  AND  CYNTHIA  INSIDE 

HOW  did  you  ever  succeed  in  getting  to  me,  Jen- 
nie?" Cynthia  asked  as  she  pushed  back  her 
chair  and  arose  from  her  machine  to  greet  her 
friend.  ''I  didn't  suppose  your  father  would  allow 
you  to  speak  to  me  again." 

''Father  is  out  of  town,"  Jennie  answered,  '*so  I 
came  to  see  you.  I  want  to  know  what  has  happened. 
Father  asked  me  to  have  nothing  more  to  do  with  you 
but  would  give  no  explanation.  I  don't  understand  it, 
Cynthia,  and  have  no  thought  of  obeying.  So  long  as 
you  need  a  friend  you  can  depend  on  me." 

*'I'm  sure  of  that,  Jennie,"  Cynthia  said  gratefully. 
''Let's  go  over  to  the  window  and  I'll  tell  you  all  I 
know.    Some  one  might  overhear  us  here." 

They  made  their  way  around  the  scrap  boxes  and 
past  the  humming  machines  to  the  window  in  the  rear 
of  the  room.  Many  curious  eyes  followed  them,  for 
some  suspicion  of  Cynthia's  disaster  was  raised  in  the 
minds  of  her  fellow  workers  and  gossip  flowed  freely. 

"Did  you  know  I  was  fired?"  Cynthia  asked,  when 
safe  in  their  retreat  they  breathed  gratefully  of  the 
fresh  air  which  came  to  them  from  the  open  window. 

"Cynthia!  surely  my  father  didn't  do  that!" 

"Well,  he  and  Squire  Parsons  together  did  it.  I  felt 
dreadfully  about  it  at  first.    I  don't  see  yet  what  I  am 


366  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

to  do,  but  something  will  turn  up.    There  will  be  some- 
thing I  can  do." 

**Yes/'  Jennie  said,  ''we'll  find  work  for  you." 
''Bo  you  know,  Jennie,"  Cynthia  said,  "life  never 
seems  quite  desolate  when  we  have  one  friend.    You 
can  never  guess  what  a  comfort  you  are  to  me.    You — 
Oh!  merciful  heavens!  look!" 

Pandemonium  reigned.  Cynthia's  cry  was  drowned 
or  rather  amalgamated  into  the  cries  and  shrieks  of 
others.  Jennie  had  watched  idly,  as  one  of  the  girls 
arose  from  her  seat  and  advanced  to  the  door  opening 
into  the  stairway.  Her  flesh  turned  cold  and  her  heart 
ceased  to  beat  as  with  the  opening  of  the  door  a  great 
sheet  of  flames  rolled  into  the  room.  Not  thinking  to 
shut  the  door  the  girl  fled  screaming  to  the  far  end  of 
the  room.  The  omission  was  fatal.  On  the  strong 
draughts  from  the  open  windows  the  flames  rode  on 
their  mission  of  destruction.  With  incredible  swiftness 
they  licked  up  the  scraps  of  cloth  strewn  everywhere 
and  fastened  themselves  on  the  oil-soaked  woodwork 
which  supported  machines. 

' '  Oh,  what  shall  we  do  ? "  Jennie  moaned.  ' '  How  will 
we  ever  get  out?" 

Her  question  remained  unanswered.  The  stairway, 
the  only  means  of  egress,  was  a  solid,  crackling  mass. 
Jennie  looked  to  the  ground  below  and  knew  that 
jumping  was  out  of  the  question. 

"Jennie,"  Cynthia's  voice  was  barely  audible  above 
the  noise  made  by  the  panic-stricken  shopgirls,  "you 


THE   FACTORY   BURNS  367 

must  help  me  quiet  these  girls.  They'll  be  jumping 
from  the  windows  soon.  Oh,  Mary,  don't  do  that! 
You'll  be  killed." 

''I'd  rather  die!"  the  girl  exclaimed.  ''I'd  a  heap 
rather  die  than  be  burned." 

''But  listen,  the  fire  department  will  come.  They'll 
take  us  out. ' ' 

The  girl  did  not  jump  but  sank  to  the  floor,  chatter- 
ing madly. 

"There's  the  fire  bell!"  Jennie  called,  as  above  the 
din  and  shrieks  of  those  entrapped  in  the  building  the 
metallic  tones  of  the  bell  reached  her.  Her  mind  sud- 
denly cleared  and  hope  returned. 

"Oh,  if  there  were  only  fire  escapes,"  Cynthia  wailed. 
' '  One  hundred  and  fifty  girls  and  no  fire  escapes ! ' ' 

"But  the  fire  department,  Cynthia,"  Jennie  urged 
reassuringly.    "Didn't  you  hear  the  bell?" 

Cynthia  only  shook  her  head. 

"Jennie,  they'll  never  get  half  of  us  out,"  she  said. 
"There  are  only  two  ladders  in  town  that  will  reach 
these  windows.    The  fire  chief  told  me  so  himself." 

"What  can  we  do?"  Jennie  asked,  choking  on  the 
black  smoke  which  already  filled  the  room. 

"Nothing  that  I  can  see,  except  die  when  the  time 
comes,"  Cynthia  replied. 

The  flames  crowded  them  close.  All  over  the  room 
girls  were  fainting,  sometimes  falling  directly  into  the 
fire.  Choking  and  fighting  for  breath,  Jennie  and 
Cynthia  succeeded  in  reaching  two  such  unfortunates 
and  dragged  them  to  the  regions  of  the  windows.  Many 
cooler  heads  were  at  work,  and  more  than  one  girl  was 


368  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

dragged  back  as  she  climbed  to  the  sill  for  the  awful 
plunge. 

The  news  spread  rapidly,  and  by  the  time  the  men 
struggled  around  the  corner  with  the  heavy  hose  cart, 
the  mass  of  Leesburg  citizens  stood  wringing  their  hands 
in  the  street  below.  There  were  fathers  and  mothers, 
brothers,  sisters,  and  lovers  whose  voices  mingled  in 
one  mighty  wail  of  helplessness. 

The  ladders  came  and  were  adjusted  and  the  work 
of  rescue  began;  but  it  became  evident  to  those  who 
watched  in  the  street  below  that  Cynthia's  statement 
was  true,  not  half  would  be  saved.  Already  the  flames 
showed  red  and  seemed  to  fill  the  room.  Crowded  at 
the  windows  pleading  for  help  were  the  faces  of  the 
loved  ones,  yet  no  help  was  possible,  and  many  a  man 
and  woman  tore  their  hair  in  the  strength  of  their  des- 
peration. 

In  the  meantime,  Jennie,  Cynthia,  and  others  were 
busy.  The  closer  they  were  pressed  by  the  flames,  the 
more  intense  the  heat,  the  more  suffocatingly  the  smoke 
rolled  around  them,  the  more  uncontrollable  became  the 
craze  of  fear  with  which  they  contended  and  which 
they  endeavored  to  soothe. 

Finally,  eating  through  from  wall  to  wall,  a  solid 
sheet  of  flames  divided  the  building,  and  the  two  girls 
found  themselves  with  many  others  cut  off  from  the 
part  where  the  ladders  offered  hope.  Cynthia  saw  with 
a  sinking  heart  that  there  was  not  a  man  among  them. 
Then  the  thing  she  most  dreaded  happened.  One  of 
the  girls,  eluding  their  watchfulness,  climbed  to  the 
window  and  leaped  to  the  ground  below.    Her  lifeless 


THE   FACTORY   BURNS  369 

body  was  picked  up,  with  neck  broken  and  skull  frac- 
tured from  its  impact  with  the  stone  curbing. 

' '  Don 't  jump,  girls.  Don 't  jump, '  *  Cynthia  pleaded. 
''Not  yet,  at  least.  Give  them  a  chance  to  get  us  out 
first. '^ 

Cynthia  knew  that  not  long  would  her  voice  be 
heeded. 

''Help  me,  Cynthia,"  Jennie  called.    *'Help  me.'* 

Cynthia  turned  at  the  cry  and  saw  Jennie  almost 
concealed  in  the  smoke  which  rolled  about  her,  tugging 
at  a  great  bolt  of  the  woolen  cloth. 

"A  fire  escape,"  Jennie  choked.  "We  can  make  a 
fire  escape." 

Cynthia  did  not  understand,  but  together  they  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  the  bolt  to  the  window  where  with 
the  help  of  others  they  raised  it  to  the  sill. 

"Hold  tight,  girls,"  Jennie  directed.  "Don't  let  it 
slip  from  your  hands." 

The  great  bolt  crashed  to  the  ground,  unwinding  as 
it  went. 

Even  then  those  below  did  not  comprehend  the  sig- 
nificance of  the  act.  Thinking  it  was  an  attempt  to 
save  the  cloth,  two  men  stooped  to  pick  it  up  and  carry 
it  away  from  the  burning  building. 

While  it  was  still  in  their  hands  a  mighty  cheer  rose 
from  the  watchers  as  a  girl  shooting  down  the  sicken- 
ing incline  bumped  against  them  and  tumbled  to  the 
ground  in  safety.  Then  it  was  that  many  hands  were 
offered  to  balance  and  support  the  appliance.  In  rapid 
succession  the  girls  slid  from  the  inferno  above  to  the 


370  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

heaven  below  and  fainted  as  they  realized  their  salva- 
tion. 

The  men  at  the  ladders  in  the  other  division  were 
working  rapidly.  One  after  another  the  victims  were 
passed  from  man  to  man  and  deposited  in  the  arms  of 
anxious  relatives,  yet  not  until  some  had  received  seri- 
ous burns. 

Swiftly  as  they  worked  the  minutes  dragged  unend- 
ingly to  the  watchers.  From  different  parts  of  the 
building  the  sounds  of  falling  timber  came  to  them 
with  the  awful  revelation  that  the  floor  was  giving  way. 
The  flames  had  eaten  through  from  behind  the  boiler 
room  and  part  of  the  building  was  already  gone ;  only 
over  the  office  and  storeroom  were  there  supports 
remaining.  The  second  floor  in  this  part  was  rapidly 
burning.  It  was  a  terrible  race  with  death.  The  heat 
of  the  flames  seared  the  faces  of  the  rescuers,  and  only 
the  bravest,  most  determined,  now  dared  enter  on  his 
mission.  One  by  one  others  dropped  away,  overcome 
by  heat  and  smoke. 

Then  a  new  danger  was  seen  by  those  below.  The 
flames  which  had  confined  themselves  to  the  interior 
were  seen  to  break  out  around  the  windows.  The  sill 
of  the  window  from  which  the  improvised  cloth  slide 
suspended  was  burning.  Rapidly  the  flames  ate  their 
way  toward  the  cloth.  The  firemen  drenched  it  with 
their  hose  but  to  no  avail.  As  the  cloth  gave  way  strong 
arms  caught  the  girl  who  was  at  that  moment  making 
the  slide  and  bore  her  away. 

''How  many  more  are  up  there?"  her  rescuer 
pleaded. 


THE  FACTORY  BURNS  371 

''Only  two,"  she  gasped,  ''Jennie  Burnside  and  Cyn- 
thia Brown,  who  were  holding  the  cloth." 

"0  God!"  the  words  broke  from  the  lips  of  the 
young  man  who  supported  her;  nor  were  they  oaths, 
but  the  unconscious,  unknowing  prayer  of  a  soul  in 
distress. 

"Get  a  ladder,"  he  begged;  "get  a  ladder,  quick." 

But  the  ladders  were  busy  and  it  seemed  ages  before 
his  prayer  was  answered.  When  at  last  one  of  the 
ladders  had  accomplished  its  mission  the  firemen  hur- 
ried to  the  ground  to  change  its  location. 

"Here !  at  this  window !"  many  voices  directed. 

Before  it  touched  the  wall  a  man  had  half  made  the 
ascension  but  paused  when  the  window  was  reached, 
beaten  back  by  the  heat  and  smoke. 

"It's  no  use,"  he  said.  "No  living  being  could  get 
in  there. ' ' 

His  words  were  unheeded.  The  young  man  pushed 
by  him  on  the  ladder  and  started  for  the  top. 

"Henry,"  the  voice  of  Squire  Parsons  ordered, 
"come  back  here;  you'll  be  killed." 

His  words  fell  on  deaf  ears,  yet  they  were  not  deaf, 
for  the  next  words  spoken  by  the  voice  of  a  stranger 
elicited  a  comprehending  nod. 

"Go  on,"  the  stranger  urged,  directly  below  hin*. 
"I'm  with  you." 

A  deathly  silence  reigned  except  for  the  roar  of  the 
flames  as  they  leaped,  eating  their  way  through  the 
entire  building. 

Only  a  moment  did  Henry  Parsons  pause  at  the 
window  as  he  pulled  his  coat  over  his  head.    He  was 


372  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

seen  for  a  moment  as  though  he  stood  in  flames  and 
was  then  swallowed  up  in  a  seething  furnace. 

The  other  followed  his  example,  but  as  he  climbed  it 
was  seen  that  he  was  a  cripple  and  that  the  knee  was 
used  in  climbing  that  a  disabled  foot  might  be  spared. 

The  moments  which  elapsed  when  they  could  not  be 
seen  were  heavy  with  anxiety  and  seemed  to  stop  in 
their  passing.  Many  hearts  which  had  long  forgotten 
to  pray  were  lifted  in  earnest  petition  for  their  wel- 
fare. The  eternity  was  broken.  The  moments  marched 
on.  One  was  seen  again,  and  in  his  arms  the  form  of  a 
girl.  It  was  seen  with  consternation  that  her  clothing 
was  burning,  and  fear  laid  its  cold  hand  on  the  hearts 
of  the  people,  while  the  words,  "Too  late,"  were  upon 
their  lips. 

Unrecognizable  in  appearance,  yet  it  was  seen  by 
the  use  of  the  knee  in  descending  that  it  was  the 
stranger  who  was  safe.  Henry  Parsons  was  still  within. 

Just  when  the  watchers  were  losing  hope  he  appeared. 
By  his  movements  it  was  known  that  his  strength 
was  almost  gone.  The  tension  of  the  people  broke 
loose  in  a  great,  glad  cheer,  for  he,  too,  bore  in  his 
arms  a  woman,  and  they  knew  his  efforts  had  not  been 
in  vain.  A  line  of  men  stood  on  the  ladder,  ready  to 
relieve  him  of  his  burden.  It  was  well  they  did,  for  in 
his  own  efforts  he  staggered  as  a  drunken  man  and 
would  have  fallen  had  not  willing  arms  conveyed  him 
to  the  ground,  and  Squire  Parsons,  suddenly  discover- 
ing somewhere  in  the  recesses  of  his  heart  a  spark  of 
love  for  his  son,  raved  like  a  madman. 


THE  FACTORY  BURNS  373 

During  this  period  a  new  personality  had  ejected 
itself  as  a  working  element  into  the  events  of  the  day. 
It  was  a  woman  with  cool,  clear  blue  eyes  and  a  face 
which,  while  not  beautiful,  inspired  confidence.  She 
had  evidently  just  arrived  and  still  carried  in  her  hand 
a  traveling  bag.  One  quick  glance  had  taken  in  the 
situation.  Her  commands  came  authoritatively  and 
were  instantly  obeyed.  By  the  time  Henry  Parsons  was 
borne  to  the  grassy  spot  where  she  had  directed  them 
to  lay  the  girls,  the  horses  drawing  the  hospital 
ambulance  rounded  the  corner  on  the  run  and  the  in- 
jured were  lifted  to  the  interior. 

When  Alfred  Stewart  turned  away,  the  woman  laid 
a  detaining  hand  on  his  arm. 

''Get  in,"  she  directed;  ''you  need  attention  also; 
your  face  is  burned  at  least." 

"Doctor  Lakeman  will  dress  the  burns,"  he  said. 

"Doctor  Lakeman  will  be  at  the  hospital,"  she  an- 
swered.   "I've  sent  for  him." 

When  they  reached  the  place  they  saw  Spider,  covered 
with  foam,  standing  at  the  door,  and  Alfred  knew  that 
Stanley  had  preceded  them. 

The  next  few  hours  were  busy  ones.  Alfred,  who 
was  only  slightly  burned,  was  placed  in  the  care  of 
apprentice  nurses  while  the  others  were  removed  to  a 
private  ward.  Stanley  came  to  him  a  moment  with 
another  physician  and  examined  him  carefully,  giving 
directions  for  his  care.  Ere  he  left  him  he  laid  his  hand 
for  one  moment  on  Alfred's  arm,  and  Alfred  felt  a 
flood  of  affection  sweep  over  him  again  for  this  man 


374  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

who  was  so  recently  a  stranger.  How  he  had  come  to 
love  him!  He  could  picture  no  future  for  himself  in 
which  Stanley  Lakeman  did  not  figure.  Again  as  he 
had  done  many  times  he  sent  up  an  earnest  prayer  to 
God  in  behalf  of  his  new  friends. 

Not  long  after,  his  mind  was  greatly  relieved  when 
a  nurse  came  to  him  bearing  a  message  scrawled  on 
Stanley's  card. 

''None  are  fatally  burned.  We'll  have  them  out 
soon. ' ' 

Then  he  suddenly  realized  a  great  weariness  and  fell 
asleep. 


CHAPTER  32 
THE  CIRCLE  WIDENS 

ALTHOUGH  the  excitement  of  the  day  had  fa- 
tigued him,  Alfred  Stewart  did  not  sleep  long. 
The  burns  on  his  face  and  hands  gave  him  no 
little  pain.  He  arose  and  moved  about  the  room 
restlessly,  torn  between  an  anxiety  to  remain  and  an 
inclination  to  go.  Bill  Lakeman,  he  knew,  would  be 
anxious,  but  until  he  himself  was  assured  of  Jennie's 
condition  he  could  not  leave. 

As  he  stood  at  the  window  pondering  the  situation, 
Stanley  came  to  him  again,  and  Alfred  was  glad,  for 
the  habitual  smile  had  returned  to  Stanley's  eyes,  the 
usual  cheer  to  his  manner,  and  Alfred  knew  that  all 
was  well. 

Stanley  came  to  the  window  and  stood  for  a  moment 
with  his  arm  on  Alfred's  shoulder. 

''What  do  you  think  of  her?"  he  asked. 

"Of  whom?"  Alfred  asked  stupidly.  Then  a  picture 
of  clear  blue  eyes  which  looked  out  at  him  under  a 
wide  hat  came  into  his  mind  and  he  heard  again:  ''Doc- 
tor Lakeman  will  be  there;  I  have  sent  for  him." 

"Stanley!"  he  said,  "it's  not " 

"Yes,  it  is,"  Stanley  interrupted,  a  gleam  of  pride 
in  his  eyes.    ' '  The  only  woman  in  the  world. ' ' 

"I  should  have  known,"  Alfred  commented.     "I 


376  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

should  have  known  when  I  first  saw  her.  I  must  have 
been  blind.  She  is  just  what  I  would  have  expected 
her  to  be.  I  can't  see  why  I  didn't  know,"  he  ended 
laughing.  Then  his  face  was  very  serious.  He  looked 
off  at  the  distant  hilltop  that  Stanley  might  not  see 
his  face. 

''Is  Jennie  burned  badly?"  he  asked. 

''I  came  to  take  you  to  see  her,"  Stanley  answered. 
''She  is  painfully  burned  but  not  seriously.  The  nerv- 
ous strain  will  have  more  lasting  effect.  If  it  hadn't 
been  for  you  and  Parsons  it  would  have  been  different. 
A  moment's  hesitation  would  have  been  fatal  in  Jen- 
nie 's  case.  Her  clothing  was  badly  burned.  Where  did 
you  find  them?" 

"I  can't  tell  you,"  Alfred  answered,  "the  smoke 
was  so  thick.  They  were  on  the  floor,  at  least  the  one 
I  found  was.  I  can't  tell  you  more.  I  was  afraid  we 
were  too  late." 

"Well,  it  was  fortunate,"  Stanley  said,  "extremely 
so.  I  can  hardly  see  how  jhey  escaped  with  their 
lives.  Parsons  is  in  a  bad  way.  I  thought  at  first  he 
had  inhaled  the  flames,  but  I'm  glad  to  say  it  is  not 
so  bad  as  that.  They'll  all  be  out  soon.  Come  now; 
I  told  Jennie  I  would  bring  you  in. ' ' 

Alfred  followed  him  and  stood  in  a  moment  by  Jen- 
nie's bed.  Her  eyes  met  his  with  a  smile,  and  he  saw 
with  thankfulness  that  her  face  was  not  burned. 

"I  would  thank  you  for  saving  me,"  she  said, 
laughing,  "only  I'm  not  sure  which  of  you  did  it. 
Cynthia  and  I  have  decided  to  be  equally  grateful  to 


378  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

you  both. ' '  Then  she  added  very  seriously,  * '  We  realize 
what  you  both  did,  the  risk  you  ran.  There  are  some 
things  in  life  which  can  never  be  repaid.  "We  can  only 
leave  them  as  they  are.  Perhaps  you  can  guess  how 
we  feel  about  them." 

"Perhaps  I  can,"  Alfred  returned,  with  the  light 
of  recollection  in  his  eyes.  ' '  In  my  most  helpless  hour 
you  came  to  my  assistance.  So  I  am  glad  to  have  been 
near  to  help  you  in  yours." 

''Stewart,"  Stanley  said,  coming  up,  ''I  want  you 
to  meet,  Miss  Langdon." 

Alfred  found  himself  looking  again  into  the  clear 
blue  eyes  which  met  his  own  with  frank  simplicity. 

''Hazel,'*  Stanley  went  on,  "Mr.  Stewart  is  a 
preacher,  yet  he  and  I  are  friends." 

"How  did  it  ever  happen?"  she  questioned.  "Mr. 
Stewart,  you  must  be  a  remarkable  man.  I  never 
could  get  Stanley  within  speaking  distance  of  a 
preacher." 

"Well,  you  see,"  Alfred  returned,  "I  got  in  under 
false  pretenses.  He  thought  I  was  a  tramp.  He  didn't 
know  I  was  a  preacher  until  it  was  too  late." 

"Oh,"  she  laughed,  "that  was  the  way.  What  de- 
nomination are  you  of,  Mr.  Stewart?" 

"I'm  a  representative  of  the  Reorganized  Latter  Day 
Saint  Church,"  he  answered,  and  watched  her  face 
closely  for  evidence  of  the  shadow  usually  produced 
by  those  words. 

"Indeed!"  she  exclaimed,  and  her  face  gladdened 
perceptibly. 


THE  CIRCLE  WIDENS  379 

**I  have  been  among  those  people/'  she  said 
turning  to  Stanley.  "My  last  two  cases  were  among 
the  Latter  Day  Saints." 

When  Alfred  had  been  presented  to  Cynthia  and 
Henry  Parsons,  he  left  them  with  a  message  of  cheer 
for  Cynthia's  mother.  He  found  her  in  the  care  of 
friends,  frantic  with  anxiety,  and  as  he  delivered  his 
message  he  was  very  grateful  to  be  the  bearer  of  glad 
tidings. 

**  Doctor  Lakeman  wished  me  to  say  that  you  may 
visit  your  daughter  to-morrow,  between  the  hours  of 
ten  and  eleven,"  he  told  her  in  leaving. 

For  the  remainder  of  the  day  she  was  cheered  by 
that  promise  and  took  up  her  duties  again  with  a  light 
heart.  Often  she  murmured:  ''The  Lord  be  praised 
for  his  loving  watchcare  and  his  tender  mercies." 

Bill  Lakeman  had  seen  Alfred  coming  and  awaited 
him  at  the  gate.  He  had  heard  only  the  rumors  which 
ran  rife  through  the  town  and  these  were  not  re- 
assuring. 

"All  right,"  Alfred  called,  seeing  the  concern  on 
the  old  man's  face.     "Everything  is  all  right." 

"Thank  God,  boy,"  the  old  man  muttered,  grasping 
the  hand  that  was  free  from  bandages,  and  wringing 
it  earnestly.  "Thank  God.  I  guess  he  does  rule  after 
all." 

"Yes,  he  rules,"  Alfred  said,  "even  if  we  don't  al- 
ways realize  it." 

"What  would  we  have  done  without  Jennie?"  the 
old  man  went  on.  "I'll  tell  you,  boy,  if  you  hadn't 
gone  up  that  ladder,  I  would  have  gone  myself.     I 


880  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

prayed  then.     I'll  tell  you  that  was  one  time  old  Bill 
Lakeman  prayed.'' 

''Well,  I'm  thankful,  Mr.  Lakeman,"  Alfred  said; 
**I  am  certainly  thankful  that  all  is  as  well  as  it  is. 
Just  one  life  lost.    If  only  that  could  have  been  saved." 

''Too  bad,  too  bad,"  the  old  man  muttered. 

The  hospital  was  besieged  with  visitors.  Hazel  Lang- 
don  met  them  without  the  door  and  bore  a  cheering 
message  to  each.  It  was  not  until  Squire  Parsons  and 
Marion  Burnside  came  that  she  allowed  anyone  to 
enter. 

Marion  Burnside  looked  old,  very  old,  as  he  stood 
by  Jennie's  bed  and  gazed  down  at  her.  When  she 
realized  the  lines  of  care  furrowing  his  face,  a  great 
wave  of  pity  filled  her  heart  for  the  man  whose  nar- 
rowness and  blindness  had  not  allowed  him  to  see  his 
obligation  toward  the  lives  in  his  charge. 

"If  you  had  obeyed  me,  Jennie,"  were  his  words 
of  greeting,  "you  would  not  be  here  to-day." 

"I  know,  father,"  she  answered  kindly;  "also  if  I 
had  obeyed  you,  many  girls  instead  of  one  in  your 
employ  would  have  lost  their  lives.  I  have  learned, 
father,  that  it  does  not  pay  to  obey  a  command  that  is 
in  itself  wrong." 

Marion  Burnside  made  no  reply.  The  words  of  his 
daughter  had  deepened  the  sting  which  the  averted 
eyes  of  his  friends  and  neighbors  had  inflicted.  Even 
the  boys  on  the  streets  had  hooted  at  him  in  derision, 
and  he  who  had  been  esteemed  as  the  second  citizen 
of  Leesburg  suddenly  found  himself  an  outcast.  Why 
had  he  not  provided  fire  escapes,  or  at  least  an  extra 


THE  CIRCLE  WIDENS  381 

stairway?  That  question  to  which  he  could  find  no 
answer  he  could  not  banish  from  his  mind.  Through 
a  long,  sleepless  night  it  stalked  by  his  bed  and 
screamed  itself  in  the  wind  that  whistled  around  his 
mansion.  In  one  day  he  had  seen  the  work  of  his  life 
tumbled  about  his  head. 

He  knew  the  mortgagees  would  step  in  and  take 
over  the  property  which  he  had  hoped  to  save.  And 
always  in  the  minds  of  those  who  had  esteemed  him, 
he  would  be  branded  as  criminally  negligent. 

So  it  was  that  for  each  hour  that  had  passed,  a  year 
piled  itself  on  his  head — and  this  morning  Marion 
Burnside  was  old — the  proud  arrogance  of  his  nature 
crushed  by  the  weight  of  accumulated  events  of  his 
own  making. 

"Father!"  All  this  was  expressed  in  the  world  of 
sympathy  which  accompanied  the  word.  Jennie  reached 
out  a  bandaged  hand  and  slipped  it  into  his  own. 
''We'll  start  all  over  again." 

Then  it  was  that  Marion  Burnside  broke  down,  and 
the  first  real  tears  of  his  mature  life  were  shed. 

Meanwhile  Squire  Parsons  had  spent  some  awkward 
moments  in  the  presence  of  his  son.  Beyond  the 
words,  ''How  are  you?"  he  seemed  unable  to  go. 
When  the  situation  became  unbearable,  he  succeeded 
is  asking  the  question  uppermost  in  his  mind: 

"Shall  I  have  you  moved  home,  Henry?" 

"No,  father,"  he  answered  not  unkindly.  "I  think 
I  had  better  remain  here  the  few  days  that  are  neces- 
sary. ' ' 

Another  pause. 


382  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

'' Henry. '^ 

''Yes,  father/^ 

''When  you  are  out,  come  and  see  me.'' 

A  refusal  formed  itself  on  the  young  man's 
but  suddenly  a  picture  came  before  him.  He  closed 
his  eyes  for  a  moment  and  saw  the  rays  of  the  sun 
stealing  between  the  leaves  of  a  tree  and  sending  its 
patches  of  light  dancing  around  the  chiseled  form  of 
a  woman. 

"I  will,  father,"  he  said. 

Cynthia's  mother  was  overjoyed  when  she  found 
that  in  a  few  days,  as  soon  as  the  wounds  were  healed, 
Cynthia  would  be  with  her  again  as  well  as  ever. 
When  Cynthia  voiced  her  fear  for  the  future,  she  met 
the  cheerful  response :  ' '  The  Lord  has  always  provided, 
child;  he  always  will." 

So  the  unquestioning  faith  of  the  mother  was  trans- 
ferred to  the  daughter,  and  the  load  of  dread  was 
lifted. 

Henry  Parsons  had  been  assigned  to  the  room  ad- 
joining that  occupied  by  the  girls,  and  Hazel  Langdon 
found  herself  busy  spreading  cheer  from  room  to  room. 
Before  the  end  of  the  second  day  she  had  completely 
won  the  confidence  of  Henry  Parsons  as  she  had  pre- 
viously won  that  of  the  girls.  As  she  sat  by  his  bed 
he  told  her  of  his  plans  and  aspirations  and  did  not 
know  that  in  doing  so  he  won  a  valuable  ally,  for  she 
was  already  planning  ways  and  means. 

"I  think  you  are  right,"  she  said,  "in  promising 
to  see  your  father.  But  in  getting  through  school  it 
is  best  for  you  to  stand  on  your  own  feet  as  much  as 


THE  CIRCLE  WIDENS  383 

possible.  Your  life  work  will  be  more  valuable  as  a 
result.    You  can  make  it  nicely/'  she  assured  him. 

He  had  kept  nothing  back.  With  perfect  simplicity- 
he  had  told  her  of  his  love  for  Cynthia  and  his  hopes 
for  their  future. 

''Mr.  Parsons,"  Hazel  said,  ''why  don't  you  take 
her  with  you?" 

"Take  Cynthia  to  school?"  he  questioned. 

"Yes,"  she  said,  "take  the  course  together.  She 
would  be  splendid  in  that  line,  and  you  could  work 
together.     "Women  are  needed  in  those  professions." 

He  pondered  the  question  seriously. 

"If  we  only  could,"  he  said.  "Cynthia  might  not 
like  the  plan.  Besides,  you  know,  Cynthia  has  never 
promised  to  marry  me  yet." 

"You  leave  that  to  me,"  Hazel  laughed.  "I  mean 
the  part  about  the  course.  You'll  have  to  attend  per- 
sonally to  the  more  important  matter.  I  can  promise 
that  when  the  time  comes  she  will  be  glad  to  enter 
school." 

Alfred  Stewart,  at  Stanley 's  request,  spent  much  time 
in  the  hospital. 

"I  want  you,"  Stanley  had  said,  "to  get  a  chance 
to  tell  Hazel  the  things  you  have  been  telling  us  these 
evenings."  And  Alfred  found  willing  ears  and  a  ques- 
tioning mind. 

"Wait  a  minute,"  she  said  as  they  were  talking; 
"I  want  them  all  to  hear  this." 

So  three  reclining  chairs  were  arranged,  three 
bandaged  individuals  were  made  comfortable,  and  Al- 
fred faced  the  strangest  audience  of  his  life.     Yet  as 


884  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

he  told  the  story,  the  influence  of  the  Spirit  of  God 
rested  on  him  and  added  weight  to  the  message. 
Cynthia  and  Hazel  bombarded  him  with  questions, 
while  Henry  Parsons  listened  as  one  who  hears  a  new 
thing. 

When  a  week  had  passed  in  this  manner,  they  real- 
ized that,  wounds  healed,  the  time  of  separation  was 
at  hand.  Then  it  came  that  Cynthia  went  to  Henry 
Parsons  with  a  question  in  her  eyes. 

"What  will  we  do  about  it,  Henry?"  she  asked. 

He  studied  carefully  the  trees  on  the  hillside. 

''I'm  afraid  I'd  make  an  awfully  poor  Christian, 
Cynthia,"  he  answered  her. 

''But,  Henry,  the  Lord  would  help  you.  He's  prom- 
ised that." 

"I'm  afraid,  Cynthia,  I'd  be  a  discredit  to  the 
church." 

"But,  Henry,"  Cynthia  urged,  "considering  all  that 
Christ  has  done,  don't  we  owe  him  at  least  obedience? 
Isn't  it  all  we  can  do?  Perhaps  we  might  make  others 
see  as  well." 

When  he  did  not  answer  Cynthia  looked  at  him 
pleadingly  and  was  surprised  to  see  a  mist  of  tears  in 
his  eyes  and  she  knew  that  his  battle  was  won. 

"I  really  want  to  be  a  Christian,"  he  said.  "I've 
always  wanted  to.  Yes,  Cynthia,  I'll  try.  If  you  want 
to  be  baptized,  I'll  try  it,  too.  Perhaps  that's  what  I 
need,  Christ's  help." 

And  Cynthia  slipped  away  in  search  of  Alfred  Stew- 
art. She  found  him  busy  in  conversation  with  Jennie 
and  Hazel  Langdon.     So  the  message  she  bore  must 


THE  CIRCLE  WIDENS  385 

wait  its  opportunity.  As  she  drew  near  she  heard 
Hazel  say:  ''I  was  very  much  interested  in  your  peo- 
ple down  there.  I  found  them  to  be  an  earnest,  con- 
scientious people,  thorough  Christians — so  different 
from  what  I  had  expected.  What  I  liked  most  was  the 
love  they  had  for  each  other.  Do  you  remember  the 
dreadful  floods  down  there  this  spring?"  she  went  on. 
''You  read  of  them,  I  suppose.  Well,  they  were  ter- 
rible. One  would  have  to  see  them  to  understand. 
Homes  down  on  the  levee  where  the  poorer  classes  lived 
were  swept  away.  Numbers  of  people  lost  theiir  lives. 
There  was  among  the  membership  of  your  church,  liv- 
ing right  in  the  heart  of  the  devastated  district,  a 
colored  family.  I  had  met  them  through  others  of  the 
church  members  and  was  very  much  interested  in 
them.  They  made  the  mistake  so  many  others  made, 
of  remaining  too  long  in  their  home,  trusting  to  the 
waters  to  recede.    They  all  lost  their  lives  but  one  boy." 

''I  read  it,"  Alfred  said. 

''It  was  a  sad  affair,"  Hazel  went  on;  "the  influence 
of  it  stays  with  me  yet.  Some  of  the  members  of  the 
church  had  begged  them  to  come  to  their  homes  when 
the  water  began  to  rise.  But  you  know  nobody 
thought  it  would  be  so  b^d,  and  Mrs.  Turner  was  sick. 
They  thought  it  best  not  to  move  her.  The  same  thing 
had  happened  so  often  and  they  merely  moved  up- 
stairs until  it  was  over.  They  thought  it  would  be 
the  same  again.  That  morning  when  the  levee  broke 
and  the  current  came  out  through  that  part  of  the 
town,  the  full  danger  was  seen.  Mr.  Turner  took  the 
boy  and  swam  to  shore  with  him.     There  were  not 


386  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

nearly  enough  boats  to  get  the  people  out  of  their 
homes,  and  the  church  people  were  working  hard  try- 
ing to  make  a  raft  to  reach  the  Turners.  I  stood  there 
with  them,  watching  and  hoping  they  would  be  in 
time,  when  Mr.  Turner  reached  us  with  the  boy.  It 
had  been  a  long,  hard  swim  and  they  begged  him  to 
wait  and  return  for  the  others  with  the  raft,  but  he 
shook  his  head  and  said,  'No,  brothers,  she's  out 
there  alone.' 

*'I  never  realized  that  the  negro  people  were  so 
human  as  I  did  at  that  moment.  I  think  he  knew 
it  was  the  end,  for  he  gathered  the  boy  in  his  arms 
for  a  moment,  then  unfastened  a  locket  which  had 
been  concealed  around  his  own  neck  and  put  it  on 
the  boy.  We  all  shed  tears  and  were  not  ashamed  of 
them.  He  swam  back  to  the  house,  but  before  he 
could  get  out  with  another  child,  the  house  and  all 
were  swept  away.'' 

** Hazel,"  Jennie  asked  breathlessly,  "did  you  see 
that  locket?    What  was  on  it?" 

**Why,  yes,"  Hazel  answered.  ''It  bore  the  boy's 
name.    He  was  named  for  his  father,  Sam  Turner." 

Jennie  was  all  excitement.  "Where  is  he  now? 
Could  we  find  him?" 

"Some  of  his  church  people  were  giving  him  a 
home  when  I  left,"  Hazel  answered,  not  a  little  puz- 
zled.   "I  suppose  he's  with  them  yet." 

"We  must  send  for  him,"  Jennie  announced.  "We 
must  send  for  him  at  once  before  we  lose  him." 

Then  she  told  them  the  story  as  Aunt  Maria  had 
told  it  to  her. 


THE  CIRCLE  WIDENS  387 

''We  must  have  him  here,"  she  ended.  ''It  will  be 
an  answer  to  her  lifelong  prayer." 

So  it  happened  that  Hazel  sent  the  message  which 
added  young  Sam  Turner  to  the  Burnside  household 
and  brought  the  gladness  which  brightened  the  closing 
days  of  old  Aunt  Maria's  life.  For  young  Sam  Turner 
with  his  eyes  and  ready  smile  won  h,is  way  into 
the  regard  of  the  people  and  did  no  little  part  in  the 
work  accomplished  there  in  the  years  which  followed. 
Aunt  Maria,  when  she  saw  him,  needed  no  locket  of 
identification. 

"Law,  chile,"  she  said  to  Jennie,  'don'  I  know  dat 
face?    Ain't  he  jes  like  my  Sam?" 

When  he  sang  to  her,  the  songs  taught  him  by  his 
father,  the  old  songs  she  loved  and  around  which  the 
memories  clung,  in  the  full  rich  voice  which  had  come 
down  to  him  from  the  generations  of  the  past,  the  old 
lady's  joy  knew  no  bounds.  To  her  'twas  the  years 
rolled  back  and  a  restoration  of  her  own.  She  listened 
to  the  gospel  story  as  he  told  it  in  his  quaint  way, 
uncomprehendingly  but  believingly,  and  so  came  the 
peace  with  the  evening  which  never  lifted  till  the 
shadows  fell. 

But  we  are  digressing.  Cynthia  did  not  find  oppor- 
tunity to  deliver  her  message  until  Alfred  was  leaving 
that  evening.  He  found  opportunity  for  a  few  mo- 
ments of  quiet  conversation  with  Henry  Parsons  be- 
fore he  left,  and  when  he  was  once  more  outside  be- 
neath the  great  canopy  of  heaven,  he  lifted  a  heart 
overflowing    with    gladness   to    God   in   a   prayer   of 


388  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

thanksgiving  for  those  souls  which  had  been  given  him, 
and  he  did  not  forget  those  who  did  not  yet  see  that 
the  way  lay  through  the  slough  of  obedience. 


CHAPTER  33 
JENNIE    HESITATES 

WFIEN  the  girls  were  alone  for  the  night,  Cynthia 
told  Jennie  that  she  and  Henry  had  requested 
baptism  and  expected  to  join  the  church  as 
soon  as  they  were  able  to  enter  the  water. 

"Why,  Cynthia!"  Jennie  exclaimed,  ''you've  been 
baptized  once!" 

''I  know,  Jennie,"  Cynthia  said.  ''I've  thought  that 
all  out;  I'm  going  to  be  baptized  again." 

"I  can't  see  why  you  should,"  Jennie  persisted. 

"Listen,  Jennie,"  her  friend  returned.  "You  know 
as  well  as  I  that  the  church  we  were  baptized  in  teaches 
only  a  smattering  of  the  truth,  and  a  lot  of  the  things 
they  teach  are  not  and  never  were  found  in  the  Bible. 

"They  are  not  to  blame,  Jennie;  I'm  not  criticizing 
them.  The  trouble  is,  they  are  not  the  custodians  of 
the  gospel  which  John  saw  the  angel  bring.  They 
have  as  much  truth  as  man  can  figure  out,  but  Jennie, 
man  can't  figure  out  the  truth  of  God  completely.  I 
lay  awake  all  the  other  night  and  thought  this  matter 
over.  Even  if  man  could  figure  out  God's  truth  from 
the  Bible,  that  wouldn't  give  him  the  right  to  act  for 
God  unless  God.  told  him  to.  The  trouble  with  the 
Christian  churches  is  that  they  think  God  suddenly 
went  dumb.  They  believe  in  him  all  right,  but  they 
believe  in  him  as  a  God  of  power  in  the  past.    Accord- 


390  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

ing  to  appearances  they  seem  to  think  some  myste- 
rious agent  has  shorn  him  of  his  power  in  our  own  day. 
If  they  had  believed  in  a  living,  acting  God  of  the 
present,  a  God  who  never  changes,  he  would  have  re- 
vealed to  them  the  things  they  failed  to  understand  in 
his  law.  Then  they  would  not  have  divided  up  into 
so  many  kinds  of  Christian  churches.  We  could  all 
do  as  Paul  instructed  the  Christians  to  do  in  his  day, 
'Speak  the  same  thing.* 

''The  majority  of  the  Christians,'*  Cynthia  went  on, 
"don *t  want  God  to  speak  now.  They  want  him  to  keep 
silent  and  speak  to  them  only  from  the  past,  when  we 
should  be  praying  for  him  to  tell  us  where  the  trouble 
lies — to  tell  us  how  we  can  be  united  again. 

"Yes,  Jennie,  I'm  glad,  more  than  glad,  to  be  able 
to  obey  the  gospel  of  Christ  restored.  I'm  glad  I 
lived  to  see  this  day." 

Jennie  made  no  answer.  She  felt  dazed,  depressed. 
She  had  received  the  message  gladly  but  with  no 
thought  of  obeying  it,  and  she  had  not  known  that  in 
her  heart  pride  held  sway.  She  had  not  realized  that, 
in  her  mind,  fine  church  buildings  and  all  that  went  with 
them  had  formed  such  a  necessary  part  of  her  religion. 

"True,  these  had  given  her  no  satisfaction  of  spirit, 
yet,  now  that  she  had  found  that  satisfaction,  she  had 
thought  to  carry  it  with  her  in  the  religious  paths  she 
had  already  walked.  So  with  Cynthia's  words  came 
the  battle.  She  knew  that  Cynthia  had  spoken  the 
truth,  yet  her  being  revolted  at  the  thought  of  being 
identified  with  a  religion  at  once  obscure  and  unpopular. 

Hazel  Langdon  came  in  and  turned  out  the  lights, 


JENNIE  HESITATES  891 

but  for  Jennie  there  was  no  sleep.  Her  mind,  keenly- 
alert,  attacked  the  question  from  all  sides,  yet  she 
could  not  bring  herself  to  consent  to  take  the  path 
chosen  by  Cynthia. 

"Why  isn't  my  church  just  as  good?''  she  questioned, 
and  always  Cynthia's  words  rang  in  her  ears  in  answer: 
''They  are  not  the  custodians  of  that  gospel  which 
John  saw  the  angel  bring. ' ' 

As  the  hours  rolled  away  she  arose  from  her  bed, 
found  her  way  to  the  window,  and  looked  out  upon 
the  beauties  of  a  moonlit  night.  The  world  was  quiet, 
while  on  high  the  great  round  moon  rode  in  majesty 
and  serenity.  She  started  to  pray,  yet  from  somewhere 
within  the  inmost  recesses  of  her  mind  came  a  warning 
that  if  she  prayed  over  this  matter  the  Lord  would 
lead  her  where  she  desired  not  to  go.  The  prayer  on 
her  lips  was  checked.  Yet  the  answer  came  in  a  gen- 
tle, saddened  voice,  whispering  itself  from  the  ages 
of  the  past :  "If  any  man  will  come  after  me,  let  him 
deny  himself  and  take  up  his  cross  and  follow  me." 

Then  the  prayer  did  come,  borne  on  a  flood  of  tears 
from  the  depths  of  her  heart:  "0  Lord,"  she  whis- 
pered, "help  me  to  know  what  to  do.  Help  me  to  see 
the  way." 

Suddenly  she  was  standing,  not  by  the  hospital 
window,  but  at  the  head  of  a  brilliantly  lighted  street. 
As  far  as  the  eye  could  see  magnificent  temples,  cathe- 
drals, and  churches  lifted  their  spires  to  heaven  and 
sent  out  their  calls  to  man:  "Come  and  worship." 
Jennie  looked  from  one  to  the  other  in  confusion. 


392  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

''Which  shall  I  enter?"  she  questioned.  "In  which 
shall  I  worship?" 

She  became  aware  for  the  first  time  that  she  was  not 
alone.  Turning  she  beheld  by  her  side  a  radiant 
creature  clothed  in  a  garment  of  unspeakable  white- 
ness. He  stood  as  it  seemed  in  the  center  of  a  light 
which  made  a  shadow  of  the  light  surrounding 
them.  She  gazed  at  him  in  wonder  and  tried 
in  her  mind  to  find  words  with  which  to  describe 
the  wonderful  beauty  of  her  companion.  The  hair 
fell  back  in  shimmering  brilliance  from  a  face  perfect 
in  feature  and  kindliness  of  expression.  The  bare 
feet  visible  below  the  folds  of  a  snowy  garment  gleamed 
like  crystal  gold.  There  were  no  words  with  which 
to  describe  the  being.  The  words,  of  the  prophet  came 
to  her  as  she  contemplated  the  feet  which  barely 
touched  the  earth  on  which  he  stood.  ''And  his  feet 
like  unto  fine  brass  as  if  they  burned  in  a  furnace." 

She  knew  now  why  the  prophet  had  used  them. 
Those  words  came  nearer  expressing  the  wonderful 
beauty  she  beheld  than  any  she  could  find.  She  became 
aware  that  he  awaited  her  question. 

"Which  shall  I  enter?"  she  asked  again. 

"Come,"  he  said,  and  his  voice  reminded  her  of  dis- 
tant music. 

As  they  passed  before  the  most  magnificent  of  the 
buildings  she  had  contemplated,  attracted  by  the  beauty 
of  the  place  she  felt  again  a  keen  desire  to  enter. 

"May  we  not  go  here?"  she  questioned. 

The  face  of  the   angel  saddened. 


JENNIE  HESITATES  893 

''They  have  broken  the  laws,  changed  the  ordinance, 
and  broken  the  everlasting  covenant." 

She  followed  in  silence,  but  as  they  passed  again  a 
beautiful  structure  from  whose  decorated  windows  the 
picture  of  the  Son  of  God  looked,  she  questioned 
again  timidly:  "Here  is  Christ's  picture.  Shall  we 
not  go  here?" 

Again  as  with  distant  music  came  the  answer :  ' '  This 
people  draw  near  unto  me  with  their  mouths  and  with 
their  lips  do  honor  me,  but  have  removed  their  hearts 
far  from  me  and  their  fear  toward  me  is  taught  by  the 
precepts  of  men." 

Not  daring  to  question  again,  Jennie  saw  with  a 
sinking  heart  that  they  were  leaving  behind  the  beauti- 
ful buildings  she  had  so  much  wanted  to  enter  and  had 
come  to  the  district  of  the  unpretentious,  plain,  and  in 
some  cases,  disreputable  churches. 

''Oh,  must  I  enter  one  of  these?"  she  questioned  of 
herself. 

Suddenly  from  a  small  building  at  the  end  of  the 
street,  there  came  to  her,  wafted  on  the  breezes,  the 
voice  of  singing  and  she  saw  the  angel  smile. 

A3  they  drew  nearer,  the  words  of  the  song  dis- 
tinguished themselves  and  the  warming  influence  of  the 
Spirit  of  God  settled  over  her,  burning  them  into  her 
memory : 

Organize  my  church  and  kingdom, 
Not  in  order  man  approved, 
But  in  that  revealed  through  Jesus, 
Your  Redeemer  whom  ye  love. 


394  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

She  looked  at  the  angel  with  a  question  in  her  mind 
which  she  dared  not  ask. 

*'I  have  chosen  the  weak  things  of  the  world/*  he 
answered,  "to  confound  the  mighty/* 

She  found  herself  alone,  standing  tremblingly  before 
the  door  of  the  building,  afraid  to  enter.  The  songs 
with  their  wonderful  appeal  still  came  to  her  from 
within  and  her  being  thrilled  with  a  sincere  desire  to 
join  the  singers. 

As  she  hesitated  and  pondered  she  suddenly  became 
aware  that  the  door  was  held  ajar  and  she  heard  a 
familiar  voice  saying:  **In  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ 
I  bid  you  enter.'* 

She  raised  a  surprised  face  from  the  window  and 
looked  out  once  more  on  the  moonlit  night.  Her  being 
still  thrilled  with  the  sweet  influence  which  had  come 
to  her  with  the  vision.  Her  pride  was  gone.  She  felt 
only  a  deep  yearning  to  follow  in  the  footsteps  of 
the  Son  of  God.  What  though  the  way  be  obscure? 
What  though  reproach  attend?  Surely  if  Christ  him- 
self could  walk  the  way,  man  should  not  complain. 

The  thoughts  of  her  heart  formed  themselves  on  her 
lips  and  she  sang  the  most  sincere  prayer  of  her  lifeic 

Lead,  kindly  Light,  amid  the  encircling  gloom, 

Lead  thou  me  on; 
The  night  is  dark  and  I  am  far  from  home, 

Lead  thou  me  on. 
Keep  thou  my  feet;  I  do  not  ask  to  see 
The  distant  scene;  one  step  enough  for  me. 


JENNIE  HESITATES  895 

I  was  not  ever  thus,  nor  prayed  that  thou 

Shouldst  lead  me  on; 
I  loved  to  choose  and  see  my  path;  but  now 

Lead  thou  me  on. 
I  loved  the  garish  day,  and,  spite  of  fears, 
Pride  ruled  my  will:  remember  not  past  years. 

So  long  thy  power  hath  blest  me,  sure  it  still 

Will  lead  me  on 
O'er  moor  and  fen,  o'er  crag  and  torrent,  till 

The  night  is  gone, 
And  with  the  morn  those  angel  faces  smile. 
Which  I  have  loved  long  since,  and  lost  awhile. 


CHAPTER  34 
ALL  LOST  BUT  JENNIE'S  SAVINGS 

JENNIE,"  Marion  Burnside  said  the  day  following 
that  in  which  Jennie  returned  from  the  hospital, 
"do  you  feel  strong  enough  to  talk  over  our  pros- 
pects? The  conversation  may  not  be  altogether  pleas- 
ant." 

**I  feel  perfectly  strong,  father,"  Jennie  returned. 
'*I  know  there  must  be  a  number  of  things  which  need 
attention.  Also  I  fancy  we  must  practice  the  strictest 
economy  until  you  can  rebuild  the  factory  and  get 
it  going  again.  Fortunately  the  weaving  rooms  did 
not  burn.    We  have  that  much  to  be  thankful  for." 

Marion  Burnside  choked.  He  was  finding  it  even 
more  difficult  than  he  had  anticipated.  Jennie  looked 
at  her  father  kindly.  Since  he  had  visited  her  in  the 
hospital  and  she  had  in  a  measure  shared  his,  burden 
with  him,  a  new  bond  of  sympathy  seemed  to  exist  be- 
tween them,  and  she  felt  that  she  would  make  any 
sacrifice  for  him. 

*'How  much  insurance  did  you  carry,  father?"  she 
asked.    ' '  Enough  to  help  materially  in  the  rebuilding  ? ' ' 

"I  can  never  rebuild,  Jennie,"  he  said  in  that  utterly 
hopeless  tone  she  had  never  heard  him  use  before. 
''That  fire,  coming  when  it  did,  has  effectually  ruined 
me  financially.  I  have  never  told  you,  but  the  plant,  as 
well  as  this  house,  was  mortgaged.     Those  mortgages 


ALL  LOST  BUT  JENNIE'S  SAVINGS  397 

are  due,  or  practically  so.  I  had  plans  almost  completed 
whereby  I  could  have  remortgaged  and,  with  the  help 
of  the  added  time,  redeemed  them.  Now  it  is  impos- 
sible; everything  will  have  to  go." 

Jennie  was  for  a  moment  utterly  dazed  by  the  in- 
formation. When  she  spoke  her  voice  sounded  unnat- 
ural in  her  own  ears. 

''This  house!"  she  exclaimed.  ''Must  this  house  go, 
too?" 

She  hardly  knew  why  she  asked  it.  Yet  as  she  com- 
prehended his  words  she  realized  what  her  surround- 
ings of  luxury  had  come  to  mean  to  her.  She  had  never 
been  happy  in  this  house,  had  realized  in  a  vague  way 
its  lack  of  something  essential;  yet  regardless  of  all 
this,  its  cold  beauty  was  a  part  of  her  life,  and  she 
knew  she  would  miss  it. 

"Yes,"  he  answered.  "I'm  sorry,  but  it  will  go 
also." 

' '  Where  will  we  live  ? ' '  she  questioned. 

' '  I  don 't  know, ' '  he  replied  wearily.  ' '  Wherever  we 
can. ' ' 

Jennie  understood  now  the  broken  spirit  of  her 
father;  knew  why  he  had  grown  so  old  in  the  short 
time  she  had  been  away.  This  man,  to  whose  proud 
spirit  success  had  meant  much,  must  confess  that  he 
had  failed.  It  was  not  alone  the  loss  of  the  money  or 
its  represented  value  in  property.  The  old  Marion 
Burnside  could  have  replaced  these.  But  the  proud 
spirit  which  must  acknowledge  defeat  has  no  strength 
left  with  which  to  fight.  Not  reinforced  by  the  pride 
which  has  been  its  stay,  it  has  no  inherent  strength  of 


/ 
/ 


398  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 


its  own,  and  lies  limp  and  broken.  So  it  had  been  with 
Marion  Burnside,  and  he  cringed  in  fear  before  a 
future  in  which  he  could  see  no  hope.  Understanding 
this,  Jennie  longed  the  more  to  help  him,  longed  to  be 
the  strength  on  which  he  might  rely  in  his  hour  of 
weakness. 

"' Is  there  no  way,  father  ?"  she  asked. 

''None  whatever,"  he  said.  ''The  insurance  papers 
are  made  out  in  favor  of  the  one  holding  the  mortgage. 
The  outstanding  accounts  will  consume  the  cash  on 
hand.  No,  there  is  no  way.  I  ho^  they  will  foreclose 
at  once;  the  sooner  it  is  over  and  everybody  knows, 
the  better." 

Unable  to  talk  with  her  longer,  he  arose  and  started 
for  the  door. 

"I'm  sorry,  Jennie,"  he  said  with  his  hand  on  the 
knob.    "I  would  have  spared  you  all  this  if  I  could." 

"Why,  father,"  Jennie  said,  "for  myself  I  don't  care. 
I  know  I'll  get  through  somehow.  But  I'm  sorry  on 
your  account,  very  sorry. ' ' 

His  head  dropped  lower,  but  he  made  no  answer. 

Jennie  tried  to  adjust  herself  to  the  changed  condi- 
tions. After  a  time  she  arose  and  made  her  way  slowly 
up  the  stairs.  She  found  the  trunk  and  took  from  it  the 
long-forgotten  box.  She  could  not  have  explained  her 
movements  nor  feelings.  She  followed  her  instincts 
rather  than  her  mind,  and  these  prompted  her  to  seek 
counsel  from  others.  Above  all  things  else  she  felt  that 
she  must  talk  to  Bill  Lakeman.  She  knew  that  in  the 
old  man's  heart  was  a  store  of  sympathy  which  never 
diminished  although  given  so  freely.    She  felt  that  she 


ALL  LOST  BUT  JENNIE'S  SAVINGS  399 

must  do  something  and  that  he  could  help  her  to  know 
what  to  do.  Once  more  in  her  own  little  parlor,  she 
rang  for  Tom. 

''Bring  the  carriage  for  me,"  she  instructed.  "I 
want  to  drive  out  awhile. ' ' 

As  he  looked  at  her  questioningly  she  realized  his 
solicitude. 

''I'm  quite  strong,  Tom,"  she  reassured  him.  "It 
won 't  hurt  me  in  the  least. ' ' 

She  placed  the  box  in  the  carriage,  marveling  at  its 
weight. 

*'I  did  not  know  I  was  so  weak,"  she  thought. 

She  found  the  old  man  in  the  meadow  not  far  from 
the  roadway.  He  did  not  see  her,  for  at  that  particular 
moment  a  great  red  and  black  butterfly  swung  on  the 
head  of  a  flower  near  him,  then  rose  majestically  and 
flew  away  with  easy  sweeps  of  its  large  velvety  wings. 
Jennie  hailed  him  and  the  old  man  looked  up  in  sur- 
prise. 

"I  didn't  know  you  were  allowed  to  be  out,"  he  said 
by  way  of  question. 

"I  probably  am  not  allowed,  but  I'm  out  just  the 
same,"  Jermie  laughed.    "And  I  came  to  see  you,  too." 

"  To  see  me ! "  he  exclaimed.  ' '  Well,  now,  that 's  what 
I  call  nice.  If  it  had  been  Stewart  now,  or  even  Stan- 
ley, I  shouldn't  be  surprised.  But  an  old  man  like  Bill 
Lakeman ! "  he  ended,  laughing  heartily  at  her  blushes. 

"Now  what  can  I  do  for  you?"  he  asked  in  his  usual 
kindly  voice. 

*'You  can  lend  me  your  wisdom,  Mr.  Lakeman,"  she 


400  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 


said,  '*and  although  I  can  never  repay  the  loan,  yet 
I  am  anxious  to  borrow." 

Then  she  told  him  why  she  had  come.  Told  him  of 
her  father's  financial  downfall  and  of  her  desires  to 
help. 

''There's  not  much  I  can  do,"  she  ended,  "but  I 
brought  over  all  my  own  money.  I  don't  know  how 
much  there  is  but  I  thought  we  could  figure  out  some 
way." 

Bill  Lakeman  tied  the  horse  and  removed  the  box  she 
designated  to  a  shady  spot  beneath  an  old  oak  tree 
near.     Together  they  counted  the  money. 

''I  had  no  idea  there  was  so  much,"  Jennie  said 
as  they  finished.  ''You're  not  bad  off  at  all,  my  girl," 
Bill  Lakeman  said.  "The  money  you've  saved  will  be 
a  big  help  to  you  now.  I  know  what  I  would  do.  I'd 
buy  a  small  place  so  I  would  always  be  sure  of  a 
home." 

"I  had  no  idea  I  could  do  anything  like  that,"  she 
sa^d,  still  unable  to  comprehend  what  her  thoughtless 
saving  had  accomplished.  "I  began  putting  money  in 
that  box — oh,  I  can't  remember  how  long  ago.  But  I 
can't  realize  it  could  be  that  much." 

"Now  there's  your  mother's  home  place,"  the  old 
man  went  on  after  a  moment's  thought.  "You  could 
buy  that.  It  lies  right  there  next  to  mine,  and  a  living 
can  always  be  made  on  it.  That  would  be  better  than 
a  place  down  town." 

"Oh,  Mr.  Lakeman!"  she  exclaimed.  "If  I  only 
could!  I've  always  loved  that  place.  Mother  always 
wanted  to  keep  it  while  she  was  living,  but  father 


ALL  LOST  BUT  JENNIE'S  SAVINGS  401 

wanted  a  bigger  home.  If  I  could  only  buy  it  again  I 
think  I  would  be  happy. " 

''Well,  it's  for  sale,"  he  said,  "and  you  have  money 
enough  to  buy  it." 

''Won't  you  help  me  make  the  purchase?"  she 
begged.  "Could  we  go  over  now?" 

Jennie  was  in  ecstasy  over  the  prospect  before  her. 
She  breathed  deeply  of  the  fragrance  of  the  maples  as 
they  passed  between  them  on  the  way  to  the  house,  and 
her  eyes  wandered  out  to  the  old  tree  where  the  big 
rope  swing  had  hung  which  had  been  the  delight  of 
her  childhood  visits  to  the  old  farm.  She  knew  just 
where  her  grandmother  had  sat  in  the  days  gone  by, 
with  her  knitting,  by  the  low  east  window  overlooking 
the  fields  and  meadows,  and  her  eyes  filled  with  tears 
as  the  memories  of  the  past  swept  over  her. 

"Oh,  I  don't  understand  how  father  could  ever  have 
sold  it,"  she  said. 

"He  couldn't  if  he  had  ever  lived  here,"  Bill  Lake- 
man  answered.  "Few  people  can  understand  that  the 
value  of  the  land  and  buildings  is  the  least  of  the  value 
of  an  old  home.  Money  can  buy,  replace,  and  improve 
these,  but  the  memories  and  associations  that  come  with 
the  passing  of  time  can  never. be  replaced  or  duplicated. 
Their  value  swallows  up  and  overshadows  all  others. 
That's  why  I  would  like  to  see  you  take  this  old  place. 
The  price  is  reasonable  and  the  land  good.  I  would 
have  bought  it  for  Stanley,  but  his  work  does  not  re- 
quire this  kind  of  home.  Some  one  will  buy  it ;  I  think 
you  should  have  the  first  chance.  It  was  your  mother's 
girlhood  home." 


402  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

The  purchase  was  made,  and  although  there  was 
little  money  left,  Jennie  was  too  happy  to  thiiuk  of  that. 
With  the  sense  of  once  more  having  a  home,  security  of 
feeling  came  to  her  and  she  had  no  fear  for  the  future. 

''All  my  own — my  very  own,"  she  murmured  as  they 
drove  away.  Then  aloud  to  Bill  Lakeman:  ''I  wish 
mother  could  have  been  here  to-day.  How  happy  she 
would  be.'* 

''Yes,  child,"  he  said  thoughtfully,  "in  more  ways 
than  one." 

And  Jennie  knew  that  the  old  man's  thoughts  were 
not  with  houses  and  lands,  but  rather  that  he  spoke 
of  the  richer  treasure  he  had  lately  found. 

"Mr.  Lakeman,"  she  said,  "indirectly  mother  has 
helped  us  all.  I  at  least  would  never  have  heard,  had 
I  not  gone  to  him  with  questions  of  her." 

"Yes,"  he  said,  "I  have  thought  of  it.  It  looks  like 
the  Lord  might  have  cared  for  us  all  enough  to  have 
planned  things  for  us.  I  guess  he  must  have  known  we 
wanted  to  believe  in  him." 

"Are  you  going  to  be  baptized,  Mr.  Lakeman?"  she 
asked. 

"Yes,"  he  answered.  "It  isn't  much  the  Lord  has 
asked  us  to  do.  I  am  certainly  willing  to  do  that 
much. ' ' 

"I  feel  the  same  way,"  she  said.  "I  did  feel  differ- 
ently at  first,  but  I'm  ashamed  of  my  pride  now.  I've 
found  out  that  it  means  something  to  be  able  to  say, 
'I'm  not  ashamed  of  the  gospel  of  Christ.'  " 

Then  she  told  him  of  the  vision  granted  her  as  she 


ALL  LOST  BUT  JENNIE'S  SAVINGS  408 

pondered  the  question  while  in  the  hospital.  Bill  Lake- 
man  nodded. 

''Now  that's  more  like  it,"  he  said.  ''The  Lord  al- 
ways did  work  that  way.  That's  one  thing  that  made 
an  infidel  of  me.  The  Bible  said  that  God  never 
changed,  yet  I  could  see  that  he  was  not  working  with 
man  as  he  had  done  in  the  past.  And  I  have  jumped 
at  the  conclusion  that  the  whole  thing  was  a  hoax  and 
that  he  never  did  do  it.  Now  you  asked  the  Lord  for 
light  that  you  needed ;  he  answered  your  prayer  and 
gave  you  light.  That  is  the  God  I  like  to  worship, 
the  God  who  isn't  deaf  and  dumb. 

"Yes,  Jennie,"  Ls  went  on,  "we  may  lose  our  prop- 
erty, but  we  have  gained  that  which  is  of  far  greater 
value  and  the  world  can  never  take  it  away. ' ' 

A  silence  fell  upon  them,  a  silence  which  carried 
with  it  a  depth  of  feeling  unknown  to  them  not  many 
weeks  before. 

"Mr.  Lakeman,"  Jennie  said,  breaking  the  silence, 
"I  have  a  foolish  whim." 

He  looked  at  her  questioningly. 

"I  want  to  be  baptized  in  the  evening — just  about 
the  hour  we  have  always  studied.  That's  the  time  in 
the  day  when  we  learned  to  know  God.  That  is  the 
time  I  would  like  to  obey  him." 
"I  can  second  the  wish  myself,"  the  old  man  said. 
' '  The  message  came  to  us  as  a  call  at  evening.  What 
more  appropriate  than  that  the  evening  bear  our  an- 
swer? Yes,  I'd  like  it  myself  and  I'll  mention  it  to 
Stewart." 

Jennie   held   out   her  hand,   and   as   Bill   Lakeman 


404  THE   CALL  AT  EVENING 

took  it  she  felt  a  bond  between  them  which  she  had 
never  experienced  before  in  life — a  strange  bond  of 
common  purpose  and  a  relationship  closer  than  the  ties 
of  blood.  The  old  man  felt  it,  too,  and  murmured, 
''Blest  be  the  tie  that  binds." 

And  each  understood  the  words  as  only  those  who 
have  experienced  the  tie  can  understand. 

That  evening  she  watched  anxiously  her  father  ^s 
return.  When  she  saw  him  coming,  stoop-shouldered 
and  slow,  she  went  to  meet  him.  He  took  her  arm 
with  the  first  show  of  affection  she  cduld  remember. 

''Is  all  finished?"  she  asked. 

"All  ready  to  be  turned  over,"  he  said  with  a  deep 
sigh. 

"I've  picked  out  a  home  for  us,  father,"  Jennie  went 
on,  her  face  beaming  until  the  man  could  not  but 
catch  something  of  her  hopefulness. 

"Where?"  he  asked. 

"The  little  farm  over  by  Lakeman's  in  the  edge  of 
town;  mother's  home  place.  How  would  you  like 
that?" 

"That  place  has  been  in  my  mind  all  day,  Jennie," 
he  said.  "That's  where  I  married  your  mother.  But 
it's  no  use  Jennie;  I  couldn't  even  pay  the  rent  on  it 
unless  we  sold  household  furniture  to  do  it." 

"But,  father,  you  don't  understand,"  Jennie  laughed. 
"I've  bought  it." 

He  stopped  in  the  walk  and  looked  down  at  her. 

"Oh,  I  know  you  don't  believe  it,"  she  went  on. 
"But  I  did.    Paid  for  it,  too.    I've  always  kept  some 


ALL  LOST  BUT  JENNIE'S  SAVINGS  405 

of  the  money  you  have  given  me,  and  when  we  counted 
it  there  was  enough  to  buy  the  place." 

**How  could  you  save  that  much,"  he  questioned, 
''and  I  not  know  it?    Surely,  Jennie " 

' '  In  my  trunk, ' '  she  laughed,  waving  aside  his  fears. 
''I've  kept  it  in  my  trunk." 

It  was  significant  of  the  change  in  the  man  that  he 
did  not  scold  her. 


CHAPTER  35 
THE  WAYS  OF  MAN 

WHEN  the  great  N.  S.  and  T.  railroad  line  pushed 
its  way  through  from  the  East  and  reached 
its  mighty  arm  into  the  undeveloped  and 
unknown  West,  it  intersected  the  C.  and  U.  C.  in  the 
city  of  Usk. 

The  two  lines  being  on  friendly  terms,  in  fact  it 
was  rumored  that  the  same  great  head  directed  both, 
a  big  union  depot,  the  pride  and  boast  of  the  country- 
side, was  erected.  Nor  was  that  all;  great  machine 
shops,  mysterious  roundhouses,  and  magnificent  office 
buildings  made  their  appearance ;  and^  Usk  was  no 
longer  the  country  village  of  other  years,  but  a  metropo- 
lis, the  headquarters  of  the  western  division. 

Country  ways  and  country  manners  fell  away  and 
city  noise  and  culture  took  their  place.  Keen  minds 
which  had  long  lain  dormant  under  the  quiet  monotony 
of  the  peaceful  village  awoke  to  the  situation  and  for- 
tunes were  made  rapidly.  It  may  be  said  that  in 
their  making  and  the  superficial  boom  which  accom- 
panied them,  fortunes  were  also  lost,  but  that  fact 
was  not  spoken  of  in  Usk.  That  city  chose  rather  to 
point  to  those  that  had  been  made  as  an  inducement 
for  others  to  venture,  and  forgot,  seemingly,  the  other, 
darker  side. 

Among  those  whose  fortunes  had  outgrown  the  needs 


THE  WAYS  OF  MAN  407 

of  their  possessors  and  must  of  necessity  reach  out  for 
other  lines  of  activity  and  investment,  old  John  Albee, 
president  of  the  Albee  Bank  of  Usk,  found  himself  in 
the  lead.  His  fame  as  a  financier  spread  through  the 
surrounding  country  and  somehow  blinded  those  who 
should  have  seen,  to  the  fact  that  a  mortgage  once 
drawn  in  favor  of  John  Albee  was  almost  invariably 
followed  by  a  change  of  ownership.  One  by  one  these 
were  gathered  in  from  the  men  to  whom  they  were  of 
such  vital  need  and  added  to  the  already  overgrown 
fortune  of  the  man  who  did  not  need  them.  It  was 
to  this  man  that  Marion  Burnside  had  gone  in  his 
hour  of  fancied  financial  need,  and  it  was  at  this  man's 
suggestions  that  he  and  Squire  Parsons  had  made  cer- 
tain speculative  ventures  which  had  proven  so  dis- 
astrous, for  which  cause  they  wavered  on  the  verge  of 
financial  ruin. 

Such  a  condition  was  not  unexpected  to  John  Albee. 
In  fact  an  examination  of  the  papers  in  his  vault 
would  have  disclosed  inventories  of  the  holdings  of 
both  that  were  almost  as  complete  as  could  have  been 
furnished  by  themselves. 

Yet  so  strange  is  this  world  and  its  happenings,  that, 
at  the  very  hour  of  the  fire  which  threw  the  long- 
coveted  properties  of  Marion  Burnside  into  his  hands, 
physicians  stepped  back  from  his  bedside  and  with 
solemn  faces  said,  '*It  is  over.'' 

John  Albee  had  not  died  without  a  will,  and  for  the 
want  of  some  place  to  put  the  wealth  he  had  been 
so  busy  gaining  and  regaining,  it  was  scattered  and 


408  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

many  charitable  organizations  were  enriched  by  his 
going.  One  individual  alone  was  mentioned  in  the  will. 
A  nephew,  also  named  John  Albee,  forgotten  and 
neglected  during  life,  was  made  the  legatee  for  all 
property  not  otherwise  appropriated.  That  did  not 
mean  that  the  second  John  Albee  would  be  as  rich  as 
the  first  had  been,  for  there  was  not  much  which  had 
not  already  been  given.  But  it  did  happen  that  the 
mortgage  papers  covering  Marion  Burnside^s  property 
as  well  as  some  others  of  less  importance  were  among 
those  not  already  bestowed,  and  these  under  the  word- 
ing of  the  will  passed  into  the  hands  of  young  John 
Albee. 

These  were  also  the  subject  of  discussion  as  John 
Albee  the  second  sat  in  the  office  of  the  attorney  into 
whose  custody  the  will  and  the  temporary  handlings  of 
the  estate  had  fallen.  The  old  attorney  was  saying: 
**Now  that  was  a  lucky  fire  for  you — a  mighty  lucky 
fire.  Marion  Burnside  was  trying  to  remortgage  and 
would  have  succeeded  if  that  fire  had  not  come.  Given 
a  little  time  he  would  have  paid  off  the  mortgage.  The 
insurance,  of  course,  was  made  out  in  favor  of  your 
uncle.  That  cuts  off  his  chances  to  rebuild  and  re- 
mortgage  from  that  source.  So  Marion  Burnside  lost. 
Yes,  sir,"  the  older  man  laughed,  "even  a  fire  can  be 
lucky,  and  that  was  your  lucky  fire." 

A  shadow  passed  over  the  face  of  the  young  man. 

''Yes,  lucky  for  me,"  he  said,  ''but  what  about 
the  man  who  lost  it?" 

The  attori^iey  looked  at  him  in  surprise. 


THE  WAYS  OF  MAN  409 

*'0h,  well,"  he  said,  "we're  not  supposed  to  think 
of  the  other  fellow." 

'*No,  I  suppose  not."  Young  John  Albee's  voice  bore 
a  peculiar  quality.  The  other  fell  to  studying  his 
face  closely. 

It  was  an  intelligent  face,  he  admitted  that,  and  it 
did  not  lack  shrewdness.  Yet  it  did  lack  something 
he  was  accustomed  to  see"ng  in  his  associates  of  the 
world,  something  which  puzzled  him  and  set  him  grop- 
ing in  his  mind  for  a  definition  of  the  thing  which 
eluded  him. 

''How  much  is  the  property  worth?"  the  young 
man  questioned. 

''Estimated  $25,000;  really  much  more." 

"And  what  is  the  amount  of  the  mortgage?" 

"Ten  thousand." 

"In  other  words  an  unfortunate  fire  throws  into 
my  hands  $15,000  more  than  I  would  otherwise  have 
had." 

The  attorney  nodded. 

"And  the  other  man  loses  that  $15,000  as  well  as 
the  property  which  probably  represented  the  work 
of  his  lifetime." 

"Well,  yes,  I  suppose  it  amounts  to  that,"  the  older 
man  admitted. 

"It  doesn't  seem  quite  right,  does  it?" 

"Why,  man!"  the  other  exclaimed.  "It's  what  the 
world  considers  a  lucky  stroke  of  business.  It  is  from 
such  things  that  fortunes  are  made." 

"Yes,  I  know,"  the  young  man  replied  quietly,  "but 
I  somehow  can't  imagine  Christ  doing  it." 


410  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

'*0h,  religion!*'  was  the  mental  exclamation  of  the 
man  of  the  world. 

*'Let  me  tell  you,  young  man/'  he  said  aloud,  *'a 
man  can't  take  Christ  very  far  into  his  business  life. 
That's  all  right  for  Sunday.  I  like  to  go  to  church  my- 
self on  Sundays.  But  during  the  week  it's  a  good 
thing  to  forget.  Religion  is  all  right  as  a  theory,  but 
it  will  never  do  to  apply  it." 

**  When  will  the  transfer  of  the  property  take  place?" 
the  young  man  questioned  again. 

**I  have  already  ordered  a  foreclosure,"  the  admini- 
strator answered.  "I  know  it  is  what  your  uncle  would 
have  done  had  he  been  handling  the  affair  himself. 
You  can,  of  course,  order  any  changes  you  like  in  the 
managing  of  your  estate." 

**No,"  the  other  said,  ''you  did  right.  His  property 
is  probably  tied  up  until  he  couldn't  even  rebuild.  So 
it  is  best  not  to  keep  it  inactive.  I  was  thinking  I 
would  run  down  to  Leesburg  and  look  things  over,  for 
the  sooner  the  plant  is  running  again  the  better.  You 
had  best  look  after  the  legal  part  of  the  work.  When 
all  is  ready  I  will  go  down  and  take  possession.  What- 
ever other  changes  we  wish  to  make  can  be  made  from 
there  later." 

''Good,"  the  older  man  ejaculated.  "I  thought  for 
awhile  you  were  going  to  make  a  poor  successor  to  old 
John  Albee,  but  I  guess  you'll  do.  I'll  have  the  trans- 
fer all  made.  The  insurance  money  will  be  deposited 
in  your  name  to-morrow.  When  the  proper  time  comes 
you  take  possession.    I'll  attend  to  the  rest." 


THE  WAYS  OF  MAN  411 

"All  right,  Mr.  Sherman."  Young  John  Albee  held 
out  his  hand.  '*If  I  need  an  attorney  down  there,  111 
send  for  you.*' 

** Thank  you,  Mr.  Albee,"  the  old  attorney  responded 
warmly.  ''You  will  find  me  just  as  willing  to  serve 
you  as  I  have  always  been  to  serve  your  uncle  before 
you.    Let  me  know  when  you  need  m.e.*' 

*  *  Not  a  bad  fellow.  Not  a  bad  fellow, ' '  he  murmured 
when  he  was  alone.  But  as  young  John  Albee  descended 
the  stair  he  did  that  which  old  John  Albee  would  never 
have  done,  for  as  he  walked  he  prayed:  ''Help  me, 
0  Lord,  to  be  a  worthy  steward." 


CHAPTER  36 
THE  WAY  OF  GOD 

THE  THOUGHT  of  that  prayer  was  also  under 
discussion  by  Alfred  Stewart  and  Bill  Lakeman 
as  they  stood  once  more  under  the  great  maple 
overshadowing  the  rapids  of  Turkey  Creek.  They  had 
wandered  far  along  the  banks  of  the  creek  in  search 
of  a  suitable  spot  for  the  performance  of  the  baptisms 
to  which  they  all  looked  forward.  Unsatisfied  they 
had  retraced  their  steps  once  more  to  this  spot  which 
was  at  once  the  most  beautiful  and  the  most  secluded 
of  any  they  had  considered.  Not  that  they  tried  to  hide 
their  acts  from  the  world,  but  the  quiet  hush  of  the 
place  gave  them  the  feeling  that  in  making  their  cove- 
nant they  were  here  alone  with  God.  Bill  Lakeman  al- 
ready knew  that  wherever  the  spot  on  earth  at  which 
he  followed  the  footsteps  of  Christ  into  the  waters  of 
baptism,  it  would  thereafter  be  holy  ground  to  him; 
and  no  spot  save  this  which  had  for  years  been  his 
favorite  retreat  could  satisfy  his  mind.  Moreover, 
directly  under  the  peninsula  at  the  foot  of  the  rapids, 
the  action  of  the  waters  had  gradually  washed  a  hole 
of  the  required  depth,  and  here,  after  their  struggles 
with  the  rapids  above,  seemed  to  rest  awhile  ere  they 
stole  quietly  along  on  their  journey  to  the  lake. 

"See,  boy,  that's  the  spot  we  want,''  Bill  Lakeman 
had  said;   ''after  our  struggle  with   doubt   and  un- 


THE  WAY  OF  GOD  413 

certainty  we  find  rest  in  Christ.  When  I  see  those 
waters  resting  there,  I'll  always  know  what  it  means.'* 

So  the  decision  had  been  made  and  they  stood  again 
on  the  bed  of  soft  mosses,  while  over  them  the  great 
tre€  spread  her  shade  protectingly.  The  cooling  fra- 
grance of  the  forest  and  the  happy  song  of  the  waters 
came  to  them  with  its  message  of  hope  and  life.  Not 
anxious  to  leave  the  spot  he  loved.  Bill  Lakeman 
seated  himself,  and  Alfred,  who  no  longer  needed 
the  assistance  of  the  crutch,  followed  his  example. 

''Mr.  Lakeman,"  he  said  after  a  moment's  quiet 
thought,  ''I  don't  want  you  to  come  into  the  church 
until  I  feel  that  I  have  taught  you  at  least  as  much 
of  the  gospel  as  it  is  possible  for  me  to  teach  you. 
There  are  other  things  yet;  there  will  always  be. 
Truth  is  as  far-reaching  as  God  himself,  since  it  ema- 
nates from  him.  I  don't  expect  to  teach  you  all,  for  I 
know  that  as  long  as  life  shall  last  we  will  be  adding  to 
our  comprehension,  our  knowledge  of  the  truth.  How- 
ever, I  want  you  to  know  that  accepting  the  gospel 
is  more  than  accepting  a  theory.  The  world  has  al- 
ways been  ready  to  accept  theories.  But  Christ  wants 
more  than  that,  infinitely  more.  He  wants  men  and 
women  who  are  willing  to  work  with  him,  who  are 
willing  to  help  him  accomplish  his  great  work.  Christ, 
we  are  told  in  the  Bible,  was  in  the  beginning  with 
God.  In  that  realm  he  was  rich  with  riches  far  beyond 
the  comprehension  of  this  world.  He  laid  down  those 
riches  for  the  good  of  mankind  and  became  poor  for 
our  sakes.  Now  he  is  calling  men  and  women  into  the 
work  with  him,  and  as  followers  of  him,  they  must  be 


414  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

ready  and  willing  to  make  sacrifices  for  the  good  ol 
others.  Sacrifice  is  not  easy  to  make,  and  I  am 
ashamed  to  say  that  many  times  in  the  past  I  have 
ushered  men  into  the  church  whom  I  failed  to  instruct 
along  this  line,  fearing  they  might  lack  the  courage  to 
go  on. 

"The  entering  of  an  army  on  earth  in  times  of  war 
is  no  light  thing ;  it  means  service,  long  marches,  scanty 
rations,  and  even  the  facing  of  fire  of  the  enemy.  So 
it  is  in  the  army  of  Christ.  When  we  join  that  army 
we  array  ourselves  with  him,  against  the  world,  the 
flesh,  and  the  Devil.  And  I  tell  you  frankly  that  no  man 
in  bis  own  power  can  make  it.  Were  it  not  for  the  fact 
that  Christ  gives  us  the  help  we  need  along  the  way 
we  would  all  fall  in  the  battle. 

*  *  Now  there  is  an  old  law  laid  down  in  the  Bible,  and 
as  I  have  taught  you  the  other  laws  of  God  I  want  to 
teach  you  that  law  also.  It  is  the  financial  law  of  God, 
which,  like  all  other  laws  of  his  as  contrasting  with  the 
laws  of  man,  is  just." 

"Let  me  interrupt  you  for  just  one  moment,''  Bill 
Lakeman  said.  "I  want  to  tell  you  what  I  consider 
an  injustice.  It  may  be  the  practice  of  the  church  I 
am  going  to  join,  I  don't  know.  But  I  don't  like  it. 
You  know  Mrs.  Brown,  Cynthia's  mother?  Well,  you 
know  their  situation.  Now  when  they  levy  their  church 
dues,  she  is  expected  to  pay  just  as  much  as  Sophronia, 
Marion  Bumside,  or  any  of  the  rest.  I  think  it's  a 
burning  shame.  The  money  means  so  much  to  them. 
Now  I  think  those  who  are  able  to  do  so  should  pay 


THE  WAY   OF   GOD  415 

the  dues  for  those  who  are  not.    I  don't  believe  it  is  as 
it  should  be/' 

''Nor  I,  either,"  Alfred  agreed.  ''Every  person 
knows  that  churches  cannot  be  carried  on  without 
finances.  In  fact  the  Christian  churches  of  to-day  are 
not  doing  the  work  along  financial  lines  which  they 
should  do.  They  are  probably  doing  the  best  they  can 
with  their  system,  but  their  system  is  wrong.  As  it 
has  been  in  so  many  other  things  the  way  God  laid 
down  has  been  forgotten  and  laid  aside  and  the  ways  of 
man  substituted  in  its  stead,  and  the  ways  of  man  are 
not  sufficient.  Consequently  lodges  and  benevolent 
societies  are  doing  the  work  which  rightly  belongs  to 
the  church." 

"Do  you  mean,"  Bill  Lakeman  asked,  "that  there 
should  be  no  lodges  or  benevolent  societies?" 

"No,  not  that,"  Alfred  said.  "I  mean  simply  this: 
The  work  of  Christ  is  big  enough,  broad  enough  to 
cover  those  things.  But  the  church  cast  aside  that  part 
of  the  law  among  other  things.  The  result  was  that 
men,  seeing  the  great  need  which  the  church  should  have 
supplied,  banded  themselves  together  to  supply  that 
need. 

"They  are  in  the  world  as  a  natural  consequence  of 
the  failure  of  the  churches.  You  mentioned  a  case 
just  a  moment  ago.  I  understand  that  Mrs.  Brown's 
health  failed  and  that  the  burden  of  support  fell  upon 
the  daughter  when  she  was  quite  young.  Now  how 
much  help,  I  mean  systematic,  regular  help,  did  she 
receive  from  the  church  ?    Individuals  may  have  helped 


416  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

her,  but  regular  systematic  help  such  as  a  lodge  would 
give  her,  did  the  church  give  that?" 

'* Indeed  no,"  Bill  Lakeman  said. 

**As  I  said  before,  Mr.  Lakeman,  the  intentions  are 
good,  but  the  system  is  wrong.  Let  me  show  you  how 
it  was  in  the  days  of  the  apostles." 

Alfred  pulled  from  his  pocket  an  ever-ready  pocket 
edition  of  the  Bible. 

''From  Acts  4  and  5,  we  learn  that  the  church  of 
Christ  did  not  leave  this  matter  to  lodges  or  organiza- 
tions of  men.  Listen  carefully :  '  Neither  was  there  any 
among  them  that  lacked :  for  as  many  as  were  possessors 
of  lands  or  houses  sold  them,  and  brought  the  prices  of 
the  things  that  were  sold,  and  laid  them  down  at  the 
apostles'  feet:  and  distribution  was  made  unto  every 
man  according  as  he  had  need.  .  .  .  But  a  certain  man 
named  Ananias,  with  Sapphira  his  wife,  sold  a  posses- 
sion, and  kept  back  part  of  the  price,  his  wife  also 
being  privy  to  it,  and  brought  a  certain  part,  and  laid 
it  at  the  apostles'  feet.  But  Peter  said,  Ananias,  why 
hath  Satan  filled  thine  heart  to  lie  to  the  Holy  Ghost, 
and  keep  back  part  of  the  price  of  the  land?  While 
it  remained,  was  it  not  thine  own?  and  after  it  was 
sold,  was  it  not  in  thine  own  power?  why  hast  thou 
conceived  this  thing  in  thine  heart?  thou  hast  not  lied 
unto  men,  but  unto  God.' 

''Now  Malachi  3:8,  9,  10:  'Will  a  man  rob  God? 
Yet  ye  have  robbed  me.  But  ye  say,  wherein  have  we 
robbed  thee?  In  tithes  and  offerings.  .  .  .  Bring  ye  all 
the  tithes  into  the  storehouse,  that  there  may  be  meat 
in  mine  house,  and  prove  me  now  herewith,  saith  the 


THE  WAY   OF   GOD  417 

Lord  of  hosts,  if  I  will  not  open  you  the  windows  of 
heaven,  and  pour  you  out  a  blessing,  that  there  shall 
not  be  room  enough  to  receive  it.'  " 

''I  don't  think  I  quite  follow  you,"  Bill  Lakeman 
said.  ''You  would  not  advocate  to-day  a  man  selling 
all  he  had  and  turning  all  the  money  over  to  the  church, 
would  you?  An  old  man  like  myself  would  have  a 
hard  time  starting  over,  I'm  afraid." 

"1  most  certainly  would  not,"  Alfred  answered.  ''I 
would  not  advocate  that  any  man,  young  or  old,  should 
sell  all  he  had  and  give  to  the  church.  Nor  do  I  be- 
lieve that  is  what  was  done  in  that  case.  I'm  inclined 
to  believe  that  in  the  whole  Bible  there  is  no  more 
thoroughly  misunderstood  passage  of  scripture  than 
the  one  I  just  read  to  you.  Suppose,  Mr.  Lakeman, 
you  should  sell  all  you  have  and  give  it  to  the  church, 
you  would  lack  yourself  then,  would  you  not?  Any 
man  who  did  that  would  lack,  would  place  himself 
among  the  poor.  That  was  not  what  was  done  in  the 
apostles'  days.  Notice  the  wording,  'Neither  was  there 
any  among  them  that  lacked.'  Then  notice  Peter's  re- 
buke to  Ananias,  'While  it  remained  was  it  not  thine 
own?  and  after  it  was  sold  was  it  not  in  thine  own 
power?'  Ananias  had  not  been  compelled  by  the  law 
of  God  to  sell.  And  after  selling  he  was  not  compelled 
to  give.  Ananias 's  sin  lay  in  his  trying  to  appear  to 
be  what  he  was  not.     Notice  verse  one  of  chapter  5: 

"  'But  a  certain  man,  named  Ananias,  sold  a  posses- 
sion.' 

"It  does  not  tell  us  that  Ananias  sold  all  his  posses- 
sions, but  a  possession. 


418  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

''The  Lord  speaking  to  his  church  in  this  day  has 
condescended  to  explain  this  matter  to  us.  In  a  reve- 
lation given  to  the  church  in  July,  1838,  the  Lord 
said:  'In  answer  to  the  question,  0  Lord,  show  unto 
thy  servants  how  much  thou  requirest  of  the  properties 
of  thy  people  for  a  tithing?  Verily,  thus  saith  the  Lord, 
I  require  all  their  surplus  property/ 

"Further  he  said:  'And  this  shall  be  the  beginning 
of  the  tithing  of  my  people ;  and  after  that,  those  who 
have  thus  been  tithed,  shall  pay  one  tenth  of  all  their 
interest  annually,  and  this  shall  be  a  standing  law  unto 
them. ' 

"That's  the  way,  Mr.  Lakeman,  I  believe  it  was  in 
the  instances  so  briefly  recorded  here.  It  was  not  all 
their  properties  that  were  sold  and  given  into  the 
apostles'  hands,  but  their  surplus  properties — that 
which  was  over  and  above  their  needs.  Consequently 
there  was  brought  about  that  condition  where  none  of 
them  'lacked,'  for  he  who  did  not  need  gave,  and  to 
him  who  needed  was  given." 

"Humph,"  Bill  Lakeman  said.  "Do  you  think  any 
man  to-day  would  give  property  he  had,  even  if  it  was 
more  than  he  needed,  for  some  one  else  that  didn't 
have?" 

"Yes,"  Alfred  said,  "I  think  he  would  if  he  were 
a  follower  of  Christ,  for  he  has  said:  'If  thou  lovest 
me,  thou  shalt  serve  me  and  keep  all  my  command- 
ments. And  behold  thou  wilt  remember  the  poor  and 
consecrate  of  thy  properties  for  their  support.  * 

"You  see,  Mr.  Lakeman,  the  Lord's  plan  is  not  to 
take  from  the  widows  such  as  you  mentioned,  but  to 


THE  WAY   OF  GOD  419 

give  unto  them.  His  plan  is  not  to  take  from  any  man 
that  which  he  needs,  but  rather  that  which  he  does 
not  need.  And  he  asks  man  to  give  cheerfully  that 
he  who  needs  may  have.*' 

''That  is  a  fine  theory,  boy,"  Bill  Lakeman  said, 
''but  it  seems  to  me  that  the  Lord  would  get  awfully 
little  at  that.  Not  that  there  is  not  enough  in  the  world, 
but  the  man  who  holds  so  much  that  he  does  not  need 
is  little  likely  to  accept  Christ.     The  poor  do  that." 

"Yes,  I  know,"  Alfred  said.  "But  even  at  that  the 
plan  works  out  well.  It  was  not  the  extremely  rich 
who  accepted  the  gospel  in  Christ's  day,  yet  they  were 
able  to  bring  about  that  condition  where  none  of  them 
lacked.  We  can  do  the  same  in  our  day  also,  Mr. 
Lakeman.  However,  we  have  considered  only  one 
phase  of  the  question,  that  is,  consecration  of  proper- 
ties. The  Lord  says  that  is  the  beginning  of  the 
tithing  of  his  people;  after  that  they  will  pay  one 
tenth  of  their  interest  annually. ' ' 

"One  tenth  of  their  interest?  Why,  boy,  that's 
awfully  little." 

"Yes,  it  does  seem  small,"  Alfred  answered.  "Then 
there  are  freewill  offerings.  Any  person  may  give 
them  as  he  sees  fit  and  is  able." 

"Is  that  the  financial  law  of  the  church?"  Bill  Lake- 
man  asked. 

"Yes,"  Alfred  answered,  "it  is  the  law  as  I  under- 
stand it.    It  consists  of  three  parts : 

"1.  Consecration — the  giving  of  surplus  properties. 

"2.  Tithing — one  tenth  6i  the  interest  annually. 


420  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

'*3.  Offerings — that  which  any  person  gives  voluntar- 
ily. 

*'You  will  notice  by  that  law,  the  burden  falls  not 
upon  the  poor,  but  upon  the  rich." 

''It  is  an  ideal  law,"  Bill  Lakeman  said.  ''Why, 
that's  the  thing  the  whole  world  wants  but  doesn't 
know  how  to  get  at  it.  The  world  is  clamoring  for  a 
more  equal  distribution  of  wealth." 

"Mr.  Lakeman,  the  world  wants  the  whole  gospel 
of  Christ  if  it  just  knew  how  to  get  at  it." 

"Yes,  yes,"  the  old  man  said.    "I  know,  boy,  I  know. 

"Now  I  want  to  get  at  this  thing,"  Bill  Lakeman 
went  on.  "Suppose  I  had  something  I  wanted  to  con- 
secrate. Would  I  look  around  and  find  some  poor  per- 
son and  give  it  to  him?" 

"The  Bible  is  our  guide  in  all  things,  Mr.  Lakeman.. 
Do  you  remember  how  they  did  it  in  Christ's  church 
of  that  day." 

"They  laid  them  at  the  apostles'  feet,"  the  old  man 
answered. 

"Yes,  and  do  you  remember  the  commandment  given 
through  Malachi?  'Bring  ye  all  the  tithes  into  the  store- 
house.' It  emphasizes  this  fact:  There  is  order  in  the 
house  of  God.  There  are  certain  ones  upon  whom  the 
looking  after  this  work  devolves.  Any  other  method 
would  bring  confusion,  not  order." 

"Another  question,  boy.  How  are  we  to  know  that 
those  certain  ones  are  not  speculators?  All  men  are 
not  honest,  you  know." 

"I  know,"  Alfred  answered,  "and  it  is  the  right  of 
every  man  to  know  that  anything  he  gives  will  go  to 


THE  WAY  OF  GOD  421 

the  work  of  the  Lord  and  not  into  the  private  coffers 
of  any  man.  All  church  organizations  are  not  so 
particular  upon  that  point  as  our  own.  Some  have 
accused  us  of  not  having  confidence  in  those  who  have 
charge  of  that  work  because  we  require  an  account 
from  them.  But  we  do  not  regard  it  so,  and  a  detailed 
list  of  all  moneys  received  and  spent  is  published  once 
each  year,  so  that  every  man  may  know  just  what  is 
being  accomplished.'' 

"Good,"  Bill  Lakeman  ejaculated.  He  studied  the 
leaves  above  him  in  silence  for  a  time. 

''It  looks  like  I've  got  some  more  work  to  do  now, 
doesn't  it?" 

''What  is  that?"  Alfred  asked  blankly,  his  mind 
wandering  away  into  the  past  over  scenes  and  condi- 
tions recalled  by  their  conversation. 

"Why,  finding  out  if  I  have  any  surplus,"  the  old 
man  answered.  "If  I  have  anything  I  don't  need  that 
the  Lord  can  use,  I  want  to  find  out  what  it  is.  Now 
my  farm  here  is  clear  of  all  indebtedness.  It  is  not 
large  and  has  all  the  stock  on  it  that  it  can  rightly 
support  and  no  more.  There  is  nothing  so  far,  is 
there  ? 

"Now  I  have  in  the  bank  eight  hundred  dollars.  My 
crop  will  soon  come  in  and  will  more  than  look  after 
winter's  needs.  I  can  think  of  no  real  need  for  that 
money.  It  looks  like  surplus.  Yes,  sir,  I  guess  that 
law  hits  me." 

The  statement  was  made  with  such  childlike  sim- 
plicity, that  Alfred  felt  his  heart  burn  with  love  for  the 


422  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

old  man  whose  years  in  passing  had  left  his  character 
untarnished. 

''Then/'  the  old  man  went  on,  ''if  I  understand  you 
rightly,  if  I  figure  up  at  the  end  of  another  year  and 
find  I  have  cleared  $200  I  shall  pay  tithing  on  that." 

"That's  God's  law  as  I  understand  it." 

"Do  you  know,  boy,  it's  a  source  of  pleasure  to  me  to 
know  that  there  is  something  I  can  do  for  the  Lord. 
I'll  tell  you,  lad,  I'm  going  to  make  this  old  farm  pro- 
duce, and  then  even  if  I  can't  go  out  and  tell  others  of 
the  gospel,  if  I  can  help  somebody  else  to  go  maybe  the 
Lord  will  count  it  a  little  bit  to  my  credit." 

"Mr.  Lakeman,"  Alfred  said  earnestly,  "it  will  make 
us  all  'workers  together  with  God.'  That's  the  highest 
position  any  man  on  earth  can  occupy." 

Bill  Lakeman  acted  upon  his  word.  That  evening  a 
check  accompanied  by  a  characteristic  letter  was  mailed 
to  the  bishop.  It  found  that  good  man  checking  over 
the  many  calls  for  help  which  came  to  him,  while  his 
associates  worked  over  the  lists  of  the  missionaries' 
families  and  considered  their  needs. 

"How  would  you  like  it,  brother,"  the  associate 
looked  up  from  his  work  to  inquire,  "if  the  time  came 
when  there  was  enough  in  the  storehouse  to  supply  all 
the  worthy  poor  who  came  before  you  for  help  ?  How 
would  you  like  it?" 

"God  hasten  the  day,"  the  bishop  prayed  fervently, 
then  sighed  deeply.  "It  is  to-day  as  it  was  in  the  days 
of  old,  not  many  rich  give  heed  unto  the  word,  but 
unto  the  poor  among  men  is  the  gospel  preached. 
Yet  more  could  be  accomplished.    The  widow  and  the 


THE  WAY   OF  GOD     '•  423 

orphans  need  not  suffer  if  those  who  have  named  the 
name  of  Christ  would  keep  his  law/' 

Bill  Lakeman  was  not  alone  in  his  act,  for  Stanley, 
whose  needs  as  a  young  physician  just  starting  in  his 
work,  and  for  whom  a  careful  inventory  would  dis- 
close no  surplus  said:  ''I  am  yet  free  to  give  the  Lord 
an  offering,  and  perhaps  as  time  goes  on  I  may  be  able 
to  make  up  for  my  present  wants  by  paying  tithing." 

Jennie  and  Henry  Parsons,  whose  offerings  were 
of  necessity  small,  desired  that  regardless  of  this  they 
might  also  be  permitted  to  help.  So  when  Bill  Lake- 
man's  letter  went  forward  it  contained  a  list  of  the 
consecrations  and  offerings  of  four.  When  Cynthia,  by 
sacrifice,  had  extended  an  offering  Alfred  restrained 
her. 

''Not  now,"  he  said.  ''Perhaps  in  the  future  you 
may  be  able  to  give  more  than  we  all ;  who  can  tell  ? ' ' 

To  Bill  Lakeman  later  he  said:  "  'Tis  to  such  as  she 
that  should  be  given.  I  do  not  think  we  should  take 
from  her." 

"Right,  boy,  right,"  the  old  man  said. 

A  letter  from  Alfred  to  the  bishop  explaining  the  case 
to  him  and  suggesting  the  results  to  Cynthia  and  her 
mother  of  an  enforced  idleness  of  any  duration  elicited 
the  following  response : 

"If  the  Saints  could  realize  the  results,  were  all  to 
follow  the  example  of  Bill  Lakeman  and  his  associates, 
I  am  sure  that  our  need  could  be  supplied.  I  am  in- 
closing a  small  check  and  will  send  a  like  amount 
monthly  for  the  young  sister  who  is  out  of  employment, 
until  such  a  time  as  employment  can  be  had.    Keep  me 


424  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

advised,  for  it  is  possible  that  should  occasion  demand 
we  may  be  able  to  help  in  finding  employment  else- 
where if  it  cannot  be  secured  there.  It  will  be  our 
pleasure  to  assist  as  far  as  possible. 

*'Now  in  regard  to  the  young  man  who  comtemplates 
entering  school  this  winter.  I  have  taken  the  matter  up 
with  the  young  people's  organization  and  find  that  they 
have  a  scholarship  for  Graceland  College  which  can  be 
placed  at  his  disposal.  Perhaps  he  can  make  a  return 
by  later  in  his  career  supplying  scholarships  for  others, 
for  we  need  as  a  church  to  help  each  other." 

Once  again  we  have  preceded  our  story.  The  evening 
came  when  they  gathered  around  the  spot  chosen  for 
the  baptismal  services.  A  holy  hush  was  on  them  and 
each  felt  the  sacredness  of  the  hour.  Jennie  and  Cyn- 
thia stood  by  the  water's  edge  and  sang  with  mellowed 
voices : 

Rock  of  Ages,  cleft  for  me, 

Let  me  hide  myself  in  thee; 

Let  the  water  and  the  blood, 

From  thy  wounded  side  which  flowed, 

Be  of  sin  the  double  cure — 

Save  from  wrath  and  make  me  pure. 

while  Alfred,  whose  eyes  were  blinded  with  tears  of 
gratitude,  led  Bill  Lakeman  into  the  waters. 

''Mr.  Lakeman,"  his  hand  rose  high  above  the  old 
man's  snow-white  hair  and  his  voice  thrilled  with  the 
gladness  he  could  not  express,  ''having  been  commis- 
sioned of  Jesus  Christ,  I  baptize  you,  in  the  name  of 


THE  WAY   OF   GOD  425 

the  Father,  and  of  the  Son,  and  of  the  Holy  Ghost. 
Amen.'* 

The  waters  closed  for  a  moment,  as  the  grave  over 
the  man;  then,  as  the  grave  is  opened  at  the  last  day- 
through  the  triumph  of  Christ,  they  parted  again,  and 
Bill  Lakeman  stood  before  them  a  new  man  in  Christ, 
having  been  bom  into  his  kingdom.  As  a  benediction 
the  words  reached  them : 

Not  the  labor  of  my  hands 

Can  fulfill  the  law's  demands; 

Could  my  zeal  no  respite  know, 

Could  my  tears  forever  flow,  ^ 

All  for  sin  could  not  atone — 

Thou  must  save,  and  thou  alone. 

Stanley  came  next.  The  wish  of  his  heart  had  been 
granted,  the  question  settled,  and  he  knew  there  was 
a  God. 

John  Bennett  followed,  and  Alfred  shuddered  when 
he  realized  how  nearly  this  man  had  gone  into  eternity 
with  his  load  of  sin,  which  would  now  be  removed  and 
remembered  against  him  no  more  forever. 

His  wife,  Mary,  followed  at  her  own  request,  and 
the  eyes  she  raised  to  heaven  so  overflowed  with  thanks- 
giving that  the  voices  of  the  singers  broke  in  sympathy. 

Henry  Parsons  also  entered  gladly,  fear  of  himself 
being  swallowed  up  in  his  newly  found  confidence  in 
Christ. 

Cynthia's  mother,  who  had  accepted  the  message  as 
repeated  by  Cynthia,  Hazel  Langdon,  Aunt  Sophronia, 
and  Cynthia  were  in  their  turn  conducted  into  the 
kingdom  of  God.    Aunt  Sophronia  had  not  expressed 


426  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

herself  as  intending  to  be  baptized,  yet  Bill  Lakeman 
had  seen  that  her  own  dry  clothing  had  been  arranged 
with  that  of  the  others  and  knew  that  they  were  not 
to  be  a  divided  family. 

Jennie  came  last,  and  Alfred  felt  that  his  cup  of  joy 
was  full  when  he  opened  the  door  to  her  and  bade  her  in 
Christ's  name  to  enter.  And  Jennie  no  longer  cared 
that  the  way  was  obscure  or  humble,  but  gladly  did  she 
find  her  feet  planted  in  the  old,  old  path  made  bright 
through  the  ages.  She  felt  herself  to  be  one  to  whom 
the  prophet  had  spoken: 

' '  Stand  ye  in  the  ways,  and  seek  and  ask  for  the  old 
path  wherein  is  the  good  way  and  walk  therein,  and  ye 
shall  find  rest  for  your  souls.'' 

Truly  she  had  found  rest.  It  seemed  now  that  the 
doubt,  uncertainty,  and  distress  of  the  past  could 
never  have  existed. 

*'0h,  mother,"  she  whispered,  when  she  stood  again 
on  the  sand  at  the  brink  of  the  waters,  **if  you  could 
only  have  been  here.  But  I  know  you  know,  mother. 
I  know  that  where  you  are  you  will  learn  the  way 
and  Christ  will  give  you  peace." 

As  soon  as  they  were  dressed,  the  chairs  were  ar- 
ranged for  the  last  time  under  the  honeysuckle,  not 
around  the  table  as  they  had  been  for  their  study  but 
in  a  row,  where  side  by  side  they  should  receive  that 
long-forgotten  ordinance  of  the  gospel,  ^'the  laying  on 
of  hands." 

Alfred,  as  a  servant  of  Christ  passed  from  one  to  the 
other  imploring  God  to  confirm  unto  them  the  work  by 
the  power  of  his  Spirit.    From  the  time  his  hands  were 


THE  WAY   OF   GOD  427 

placed  on  the  white  hair  of  Bill  Lakeman  until  they 
rested  on  the  coal-black  tresses  of  Jennie  Burnside  at 
the  other  end  of  the  row,  the  Spirit  of  the  Lord  rested 
on  him  and  they  were  made  to  realize  the  meaning  of 
the  words:  ''Our  gospel  came  not  unto  you  in  word 
only,  but  also  in  power,  and  in  the  Holy  Ghost,  and  in 
much  assurance.''  For  the  Lord  used  him  to  deliver 
unto  them  messages  of  encouragement  and  consolation. 
Unto  Stanley  Lakeman  he  had  said : 

''The  Spirit  of  the  Lord  admonishes  me  to  say  unto 
you,  his  servant,  that  inasmuch  as  you  have  covenanted 
this  day  to  serve  him,  he  has  claimed  you  as  his  own, 
and  you  shall  serve  him  in  harmony  with  your  desires 
that  others  might  be  saved.  For  there  are  indeed  many 
yet  in  this  place  who  will  obey  and  you  shall  be  as  a 
shepherd  over  the  flock ;  you  shall  lead  them  and  teach 
them  of  his  ways  until  your  journey  shall  have  ended 
and  you  shall  rest  in  the  paradise  of  God.'' 

To  Henry  Parsons  he  said:  "The  time  will  come 
when  you  shall  lift  your  voice  in  the  assembly  halls  of 
men  to  the  glory  of  your  God  and  your  Redeemer." 

And  to  John  Bennett  he  spoke,  mentioning  the  strug- 
gle he  had  made  and  giving  him  the  promise  of  success 
through  the  help  of  God:  "For  the  time  will  come 
when  you  shall  be  called  into  active  service  and  your 
voice  shall  be  heard  in  defense  of  the  gospel  by  many 
people,  even  in  distant  lands." 

So  they  learned  that  the  God  of  the  past  still  reigned 
and  that  he  did  truly  pour  out  of  his  Spirit  in  the  last 
days. 


CHAPTER  37 
THE    GOSPEL    INFLUENCE    AT    WORK 

THE  YEARS  which  followed  were  years  of  wonder- 
ful change  in  Leesburg.  John  Albee's  coming 
had  not  been  in  vain.  He  had  discovered  Alfred 
as  he  alighted  from  the  train  that  first  day  of  his  arrival 
in  Leesburg  and  their  surprise  and  delight  had  been 
mutual. 

''Have  you  been  preaching  here?"  he  asked  eagerly. 
"Do  tell  me  that  I  am  not  to  be  isolated.  Tell  me  I 
shall  find  Saints.'' 

''You  shall,"  Alfred  said,  laughing  at  his  eagerness. 
"Nine  were  baptized  yesterday." 

"Good,"  the  young  man  exclaimed.  "Do  you  know, 
Al,  I  have  a  fight  on  my  hands.  I  wonder  if  in  the 
end  I  will  be  any  less  a  child  of  God." 

"I  think  you  will  not,"  Alfred  answered,  "but  sup- 
pose you  tell  me  about  it." 

Then  John  Albee  told  him  of  his  changed  condition. 

"Above  all  things,"  he  said,  "I  want  to  do  as  the 
Lord  would  have  me  do.  While  I  am  not  a  rich  man, 
yet  I  know  that  the  coming  of  this  property  means 
responsibility  to  God.  I  realize  that  I  can  use  it  to  his 
glory  or  to  my  own  spiritual  destruction.  I  pray  God 
it  may  not  be  the  latter." 

In  the  end  he  went  cheerfully  into  the  presence  of 


GOSPEL  INFLUENCE  AT  WORK  429 

Marion  Burnside.  He  found  him  crumpled  in  his  chair, 
the  picture  of  dejection. 

''I  have  been  expecting  you,"  Marion  Burnside  said. 
''It's  all  ready  for  you." 

''I  looked  over  the  ruins  as  I  came  up,"  John  Albee 
answered.    ''I  think  we  should  rebuild  at  once." 

''I  supposed  you  would  want  to  rebuild,"  Marion 
Burnside  said.  ''It  is  the  best  thing  to  do.  There  were 
orders  enough  ahead  to  keep  the  plant  running  for 
months.     The  business  was  well  established." 

"Good,"  the  young  man  exclaimed.  "That  will 
make  it  easier.  Now,  Mr.  Burnside,  when  shall  we  make 
our  plans  for  rebuilding?" 

"We!"  Marion  Burnside  repeated  blankly.  "Why, 
man,  I  haven't  anything  to  do  with  it.  That  property 
is  yours." 

"Mr.  Burnside,"  the  young  man  returned,  "if  that 
fire  had  not  come  just  when  it  did  you  would  never  have 
let  the  mortgage  take  that  property.  You  would  have 
found  some  way  to  redeem  it." 

"Yes,  I  would,"  Marion  Burnside  said.  "But  the 
fire  did  come,  so  I  guess  that  ends  it." 

"No,  it  does  not  end  it,"  young  Albee  went  on.  "I 
have  thought  this  all  out  and  figured  it  from  every 
angle.  Under  the  law  of  the  land,  I  own  it.  But  I  am 
living  also  under  another  law  which  tells  me  I  should 
not  take  advantage  of  my  neighbor.  I  figure  that  I 
own  two  thirds  of  that  company  and  you  own  the  other 
third.    Are  you  willing  to  form  a  company  with  me?" 

Marion  Burnside  looked  at  the  young  man  unbeliev- 
ingly, yet  said  not  a  word.    It  was  a  vision  of  life  as 


430  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

he  had  never  seen  it  before — one  wherein  the  good  of 
others  was  consulted  and  where  self  did  not  predomi- 
nate. He  rubbed  his  eyes  as  though  he  dreamed  and 
would  drive  away  the  phantom  which  held  them. 

*'It  would  be  a  gift,"  he  said  at  last. 

"No,  Mr.  Burnside,"  the  other  answered,  ''it  is  not 
a  gift.  I  merely  refuse  to  take  advantage  of  your  mis- 
fortune. You  will  notice  that  I  retain  for  myself  the 
majority  of  the  stock.  Frankly  speaking,  I  want  to 
control  this  company's  policy.  But  on  the  other  hand 
one  third  is  yours  if  you  want  it,  because  I  believe  it 
rightly  belongs  to  you.  Now  if  you  think  we  could 
work  together  for  the  rebuilding  of  the  factory,  let's 
get  busy  and  plan  how.'' 

Thus  John  Albee  lifted  a  crushed  and  broken  Marion 
Burnside,  that  a  new  and  better  Marion  Burnside  might 
emerge  from  the  ruins  of  the  old. 

So  they  rebuilded,  and  Marion  Burnside  threw  him- 
self into  the  work  with  all  his  usual  vim  and  ardor. 
For  a  time  he  could  not  become  accustomed  to  the  new 
order  of  things — the  new  order  in  which  the  good  of  all 
were  considered,  and  self  rose  no  higher  than  was  abso- 
lutely necessary  for  the  safe  conducting  of  the  business. 
Marion  Burnside 's  ability  was  also  a  valuable  asset  to 
John  Albee,  and  as  time  went  on  and  they  settled  in 
their  ways  he  had  occasion  many  times  to  be  thankful 
that  he  had  not  allowed  greed  or  selfishness  to  rule. 

The  new,  modern  factory  building  which  had  been 
erected,  so  unlike  the  old,  was  designed  to  bring  com- 
fort and  protection  to  those  employed.    A  higher  scale 


GOSPEL  INFLUENCE  AT  WORK  431 

of  wages  went  into  effect  and  satisfaction  followed  in 
the  footsteps  of  complaint. 

The  policy  of  the  big  house  was  changed. 

''That  certainly  is  surplus  property  to  me,"  John 
Albee  laughed  to  Alfred.  ''I  can't  live  in  a  house  that 
big." 

So  the  time  came  when  many  children  played  about 
its  grounds,  and  orphans  were  comforted  within  its 
walls.  Mary  Bennett  found  room  for  them  all  in  her 
heart,  for  the  church  had  placed  these  in  her  charge, 
and  from  the  poverty-stricken  cottage  among  the  trees 
she  had  come  forth  to  take  up  her  life  work,  and  Mary 
Bennett  was  happy.  As  time  went  on  and  John  Bennett 
entered  more  and  more  fully  into  the  work  of  the  newly 
organized  church,  Mary  Bennett  realized  that  she  would 
soon  be  called  upon  to  sacrifice  his  companionship 
which  had  grown  dearer  with  each  passing  day.  Yet 
she  knew  that  a  full  consecration  of  her  life  and  his 
would  be  a  small  return  for  what  the  Lord  had  done 
for  them.  So  she  looked  forward  and  prayed  for  the 
time  when  he  should  become  a  message  bearer.  And  a 
true,  earnest  message  bearer  he  became.  The  dissipa- 
tion of  the  past  fell  away,  and  erect  in  the  strength  of 
his  manhood  he  fought  the  battle  of  the  Prince  of  Peace. 
He  left  his  loom  that  he  might  help  others  weave  the 
robe  of  righteousness  which  they  should  wear  at  the 
last  day. 

As  for  Stanley,  he  become  pastor  and  shepherd  of  the 
church  in  Leesburg.  His  task  was  not  always  easy,  tor 
many  problems  arose  which  tested  his  patience  and 
ability.    His  work  as  a  physician  kept  him  very  busy. 


432  THE  CALL  AT  EVENING 

Faith,  added  to  his  knowledge,  had  brought  him  much 
success,  and  the  demands  for  his  service  were  almost 
greater  than  he  could  fill. 

He  had  a  valuable  helper  and  ally  in  Henry  Parsons, 
for  Henry  and  his  wife  had  mastered  their  course  and 
entered  into  their  work  energetically.  The  time  came 
when  the  plates  on  the  office  door  read:  ''Lakeman, 
Parsons,  and  Parsons:  M.  D.  and  0.  E.  Physicians." 

Yet  changes  came,  for  the  time  was  when  Henry 
Parsons  was  sent  to  the  legislature  to  fill  the  seat  so 
long  occupied  by  his  father.  And  he  lifted  up  his  voice 
fearlessly  in  the  assembly  halls  of  men  for  the  rightings 
of  the  wrongs  existing. 

Hazel  Langdon  made  an  ideal  pastor's  wife,  and  Stan- 
ley many  times  received  counsel  and  consolation  from 
her  in  his  hours  of  discouragement. 

''I  didn't  think,  Stanley,"  Hazel  said  the  day  they 
were  married,  ''when  I  promised  to  marry  you,  that  I 
would  ever  be  the  wife  of  a  minister." 

And  Stanley  laughed  reflectively  as  his  mind  went 
back  to  that  time  when  he  hated  preachers  so  fervently. 

Alfred  Stewart  did  not  get  home  often,  for  there 
never  came  a  time  in  his  life  when  he  laid  aside  the 
banner.  When  he  did  come,  however,  he  always  found 
Jennie  waiting  for  him  with  words  of  cheer.  Sam 
Turner  with  willing  toil  cultivated  the  little  farm 
Jennie  had  purchased  and  was  happy  in  the  thought 
that  it  was  service  for  Christ. 

When  Marion  Burnside  finally  passed,  Jennie  took 
up  conscientiously  her  duties  as  a  stewardess  under 


GOSPEL  INFLUENCE  AT  WORK  433 

God,  and  studied  carefully  the  law,  "that  I  fail  not," 
she  said. 

Bill  Lakeman — we  were  going  to  tell  you,  but  are 
not  able,  of  the  last  great  triumph  of  his  life — ^Bill 
Lakeman  lived  to  achieve  that  triumph  of  all  triumphs 
for,  although  the  time  came  when,  with  common  grief 
they  gathered  round  his  bed  (he  would  have  them  all, 
those  he  loved  so  dearly)  and  saw  him  fall  into  his  last 
quiet  sleep,  yet  Bill  Lakeman  did  not  die.  By  his  in- 
fluence he  lived  through  the  generations  which  followed. 
For  Stanley  and  the  others,  whose  characters  he  had 
helped'  to  mold,  passed  that  influence  on  to  their  chil- 
dren, from  whom  it  reached  out  to  others  in  a  never- 
ending  wave  of  helpfulness. 


Mm    I ' 
I  Pl'i^  P  { 

f  ill 


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